


The Little Matchmaker

by theblackdash



Series: The Matchmaker [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-01 21:33:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2788505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblackdash/pseuds/theblackdash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the DA Kink meme. </p><p>It was there in the Fade where the little spirit called the Matchmaker met a mysterious being named Pride. She was amazed for he had the ability to manipulate dreams with a simple gesture of his hand. But it was that same gift that he punished himself as he relived bittersweet memories of a lover that he had abandoned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: So when you chat with Solas about the spirits he knows in the Fade, he tells a really sweet story about a spirit that would steer young girls toward boys that would treat them well, and he called her the Matchmaker.
> 
> I want to see the Matchmaker approaching both Solas and Lavellan after their parting, and finding ways to get them back together. The Matchmaker knows they're meant to be a couple and won't stand for them breaking things off permanently.
> 
> Writer: I thought that we needed more fluff and less angst in the SolasxLavellan fandom and I present you with this work. If you see any mistakes or errors in the fic, please do point it out for me in order to better the quality of my work. Thank you and I hope you all enjoy this story.

_Love_

That was what first stirred her, given her life in the swirling, chaotic tumult that is the Fade. She was an idea, a thought, an emotion that had finally taken a form. She was Love. From that raw feeling, she was born and given purpose and she eagerly poured all of herself into fulfilling her reason to exist. Love was her calling and it was her reason to be. And in the Fade, she allowed herself to slip into the dreams of mortals and conceal herself from them for they were afraid of spirits or demons.

So many of the dreams she'd visited were beautiful. Often, they were of young maidens who were feeling the first signs of romantic love. She would listen to the whispers of their heart's desire, often hushed like a secret that only the she can hear. She then would scour the whole Fade to find the men's dreams and then lead them to each other.

Never will she tire of when the gazes of two young lovers meet and their expressions change that to something sweet. And the two once-strangers would come to each other to dance and embrace. They would look at each other with pure adoration in their eyes then experience their first kiss in their dreams. The blissful sigh that would escape their lips is the moment she would slip away from the dream, happy to have made and fulfilled her purpose. Even after fulfilling her duty as the Spirit of Love, she would continue to search for more ways to help and bring together two people who were in love.

It was then she heard it. Barely audible in the noisy pandemonium that was the fade, but she could hear it there. It sounded like a quiet prayer in the disorder that surrounded her. Passionate yet still barely able to contain the intensity of this feeling. She must see it she thought and followed the sound like a moth to a flame, never straying too far from the path to the whispers of love.

She dipped and dived, flew over and under rocks and then she saw him. Amidst the bedlam, a single solitary figure stood, proud and benevolent. Despite how he appeared, she could sense it. Underneath all of the protective layers that he surrounded himself, underneath all of the pain and suffering, it was there shining bright.

_Love_

She instinctively hid from him, ducking under a pile of rubble that belonged to the Fade. With curious eyes, she quietly observed him.The figure was an elven man, tall and slim yet regal despite his simple clothing. The little spirit could immediately tell that this elven man was someone special. Wordlessly, the man raised his hand and with a gesture, the scene around them began to stir.

Walls began forming around them, towering high and surrounding them in a room that she didn't recognize. She panicked for a moment, not wishing to be seen. A floor above began to form and quickly, she fled to there in hopes of hiding in the bland colors of the setting.

Colorful paint then started to emerge from the walls surround them. Elven in style and they depicted fantastic tales. Simple wooden structures started materializing and was scattered along the walls of the room. Smells of old tomes, fresh paint and candle fire permeated through the air and the little spirit stared in amazement at the man. No normal mortal has that kind of power over their dreams.

The scene soon settled then and the elven man drew near to center of the room. He stopped before the old wooden desk then stood there to look at the table filled with books, runes, tomes and candles. A knock on the door startled the little spirit and she almost let out a surprised squeak but covered her mouth with her hands. The wooden door creaked when it swung open and then she saw her emerge. An elven woman, strong yet elegant, walking towards the elven man. Her short and wispy white hair flowing a little as she drew nearer to him, her delicate hand outstretched in order to reach out for his.

"Solas," she called out to him in a voice that sounded like smooth velvet. Her tone deep and sweet like honey. The male elf turned to her with a gentle and warm expression.

" _Ma vhenan_ ,"he whispered reverently.

My heart

She saw how his eyes shone brightly in the candlelit room. He caught her outstretched hand and drew her to his body. Her expression reflected his, warm and adoring. He cupped her face and gave her a chaste kiss on her lips and she sighed blissfully into it. No sooner, they broke away from each other and her eyes fluttered open to gaze at him with loving affection.

The spirit could feel it. Love in its purest form. Yet, she can sense that this was all just a conjured illusion by the elven man. The elven woman was there, but not really. She was merely a shadow, remnants of a memory that he must have imagined and summoned in his dream. The scene was false and the little spirit could sense the underlying pain in the fantasy that was playing before them. She wanted to help.

" _She is beautiful,_ " she whispered quietly in the ancient tongue that he also spoke.

The man started and she saw the warm look in his eyes harden, his gaze snapping up towards where she was. Immediately the scene disappeared in a cloud of green smoke, joining and mixing in with the Fade. The last thing to swirl back into the vortex of smoke was the woman.

" _Reveal yourself_ ," he demanded in a grated voice.

The little spirit peeked out from her hiding place, a little uncertain. His sharp gaze immediately fell on her and she smiled to him in greeting in hopes to show that she meant no harm. By the look of surprise on his face perhaps he had not expected her or her appearance. She looked like a young girl, with long straight hair that cascaded past her shoulders. Flowers braided and twined together with her locks. She looked at him with shy eyes and showed him a small smile in greeting.

" _Who are you?_ " he asked looking genuinely curious.

" _I am the ardent whispers spoken only in the middle of the night. I am the stars that are reflected on people's eyes as they gaze at one other. I am the soft, gentle touch of hands twining through hair. I am the honeyed sigh that escapes through lips after a kiss._ "

" _You are love,_ "the elf declared with a warm smile.

The little spirit's smile grew and she nodded to his answer, crossing her hands behind her in a playful fashion.

" _It has been a while since I've last met a spirit such as yourself,_ " he commented, a look of delight crossing his eyes as he gestured her to draw nearer to him. She obliged and skipped towards him as he sat down on the ground.

" _Spirits like me like to watch and guide from afar,_ "she replied and stood in front of him with her arms still at her back. He looked at her, openly observing her and she allowed it.

" _What made you decide to show yourself to me, child_?"

" _Because I want to know who she is._ "

She saw how his jaw clenched, his shoulders stiffening in defense. His lips curled into a small frown and the weight of his pain crossed his eyes momentarily. The air between them suddenly grew cold but the little spirit stood in front of him, unaffected and unwavering before the man.

"Ah,"he replied, his eyes looking at a distance past her. " _Why do you wish to know?_ "

" _I want to help,_ "she replied simply.

His blue eyes reflected his inner turmoil. All of the feelings that he had guarded in his heart seemed to pour out, the weight of sadness that his eyes bore betrayed the steely expression on his face. The ache of love called out from his heart. She sensed its cries, sensed the conflict of love that made him both elated and distressed.

" _I am sorry but you cannot help,_ " he replied softly, his lips forming into a pained and melancholic smile.

"Why?"she asked leaning forward towards him and coyly tilting her head.

" _I have abandoned her and I should never return to her._ "

" _Should never, can never or will never?_ " she started and skipped again then disappeared in flash.

She was behind him and he turned his head to look at her." _They are all very different phrases but are used similarly and interchangeably. These phrases have different underlying messages and convey different meanings_."

The little spirit paused and stared straight into his cold, blue eyes. " _Which do you mean, Pride_?"

Pride became silent. Unsure and afraid, perhaps not even knowing the answer himself.


	2. Chapter 2

Flying past floating debris, the little spirit, called Love, hurried on to seek the presence of the elven man she had met. She could sense him immediately whenever he visited the Fade. When she found him, he would always conjure up another one of his treasured memories. Again, she slipped into his dreams and waited for the scene to finish forming before them.

The scene from his memories settled and the fade that surrounded them began to wash with color. The elven woman appeared again; her form and her presence conjured up from memory. Her silvery locks gently framed her face and her smile brightened the once dull dream . Her eyes were arm as she looked at the man called Pride. They stood together at the balcony of an old but grand castle. He took her hand and twined his long willowy fingers with hers. They quietly reveled in each other's company.

" _Ithil,_ " the man breathed out the name like he was worshiping her.

Curiosity piqued, the little spirit asked. " _Is that her name?_ "

An exasperated sigh escaped the Elven man's lips and with one gesture, the silver-haired woman dissolved in front of him. The green wisp of her illusion blending in and melting into the Fade as if her presence was never there to begin with.

" _Hello again,_ " the little spirit chirped happily as she sat on the stone railing.

Pride turned towards her, his hands tucked behind his back and his expression stern. " _It would seem that you have a bad habit of intruding dreams._ "

She shrugged with her smile still intact. " _Would it have been better if I hid?_ "

" _No,_ " he said, his lips pulling down to form a small frown, " _but nonetheless, I wish that you would respect my privacy, child._ "

" _I will,_ " she said and jumped down from the railing, " _but after you answer the question I asked before._ " She drew near him, her eyes glinting with mischief. His brow creased as he looked down at her small form. His lips tightened as if uncertain of what he should say.

He looked thoughtful as he stared down, seeing but not looking. The inner turmoil within him, though subtle and quiet compared to most, was there. Love and pain tangling around each other like a messy knot that you don't know where it began nor where it ends. But that was all he was willing to reveal to her. She merely scratched the surface for he had guarded his heart heavily from her. It was clear that he did not wish for her to meddle but it would be against her very nature to simply watch and do nothing. 

" _Should not,_ " he answered finally. His expression soon turned cold and the little spirit could no longer feel his pain. No doubt he had closed her off for now.

" _Even though you say that, I can see how much you still love her,_ " she commented and cocked her head to the side. Flinching, Pride turned away from her; his gaze deciding to settle on the false glow of the sunset that hid behind towering mountains.

" _Why shouldn't you be with her?,_ " her small hand reached out to gently tug the hem of his tunic. " _Why?_ "she asked again, forcing him look at her.

" _I have chosen a path that only I must walk. And because of this...she doesn't deserve to be with me. She cannot be with me,_ "he started, his voice breaking a little from the weight of his emotions.

His blue eyes glazed as torrid emotions raged from within; though, she need not to see him to understand his pain. She, as a spirit, felt his thoughts yet could not fully see the full depth of the suffering and conflict. He was drowning in the storm where duty and love clashed against each other chaotically, leaving him unable to breathe and yet he carried on. She gazed at him with naive and curious eyes. She still wished to help, to guide him back to where he belonged if he allowed her to.

" _Please leave,_ "he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Wordlessly, she floated away.

Slipping past the little tear where she entered, she glanced to look at the solitary figure for a moment. He was simply standing there motionless as if frozen in time; his expression determined yet lost. With that last image burned in her mind, she left the dream world he created.

Free from the conjured world, the little spirit flew around. Confusion etched on her face as she tried to understand, to comprehend how Pride was thinking.

The haunted look of his eyes and words plagued the spirit's mind as she flitted through the world of dreams and nightmares. No sooner, she found a small patch of a meadow dotted with different colored flowers. Smiling at the sight. the little spirit thought it would be a wonderful place to guide a pair of young lovers here to whisper their confessions to one another. Swooping down, she laid her small ethereal body onto the grass. her eyes turned to the glowing wispy sky. Yes, this would be a good place.

Why didn't he go to her? He said it himself that he shouldn't but it didn't mean that he couldn't, or that he wouldn't. Was he contradicting himself then? Clearly, he longs for her and crafts her image from his memories. It is only here in the Fade that he can whisper love to her, can touch her. Odd, how he can't bring himself to seek her in the other realm.

Was he afraid? He can continue with the illusions but he knew deep down that it was all false, it was all wrong. Choosing to concoct fantasies in order pretend that she was there. She was a shadow. A fake, a memory, and a lie. It wasn't his _vhenan_. 

" _Why do people make things so difficult?_ " Love thought out loud as she played with the flowers next to her. Her little fingers gliding through the soft, small petals and musing at the thought.

Nevertheless, the spirit was determined to help these two star-crossed lovers reunite. Whatever the circumstance, she was certain that these two were fated to be together and that they are merely making things more complicated than it actually is.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a night like this when Ithil Lavellan's heart decided to leave her. Dark and gloomy skies illuminated by gentle moonlight. And under that same moon, she was discarded, abandoned and left alone in that grotto. At that moment, she felt the flower that she carefully took care inside of her wilting away. In her stupor, she gathered as much of the fallen petals in hopes to restore the little flower. Futile. The petals had started withering; the tips were browning and even she knew she could no longer save it. It was slowly wasting away in front of her very eyes and she was powerless to do anything. She was cold and she was broken.

"Inquisitor?" a voice, sharp and feminine, awoke her.

Ithil Lavellan hadn't realized that she was falling asleep during a meeting with her advisors. She grew self-conscious and mumbled her apology as she tried blinking away the sleep from her eyes. Her three advisors looked at each other, worry and concern etched into their eyes.

"Are you quite all right, Inquisitor?" the soft baritone of Cullen's voice was soothing as he looked at her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied hoping that the exhaustion in her voice wasn't evident. She saw them pursing their lips; they were not convinced.

"Perhaps it would be best that we end the meeting for the night. It has been a long day," Josephine suggested as she turned to Leliana.

"Agreed," the spymaster said with a small nod. "We'll pick up where we left off in the morning," and they all proceeded to quietly gather their papers and left the council room.

She exited the doors of the council room and entered the grand hall where her throne was; she stared hard at the floor as she walked. Her eyes stung and watered as she refused to blink and forced herself not to look up. Not to let her eyes instinctively search for the door that led to his room. Briskly she walked away, steeling herself from looking anywhere else. She reached the door and felt the familiar cold metal on her fingertips.

Breathing deeply once more, she pushed the large wooden door. The scent of candlelit fire and mildew greeted her senses as she entered and she observed the mess around her. Artifacts, shemlen or elven, were haphazardly spread across the room. Things were beginning to settle down after the pandemonium they experienced; she'll need to remind herself to have every artifact sorted.

When she finally reached her own room. The door opened with a loud bang that echoed through the silent halls of her throne room. Nevertheless, she felt safe now that she was in the confines of her room.

A sigh passed through her dry lips. She was worn out from the day's work and simply wished to be comfortable. She tore away the constricts of her clothes; her breeches and bindings the only remaining fabrics to keep her modest. Free from the confines of the shemlen clothes, Ithil stretched her body and felt her tired joints pop.

The past few months have been a struggle for her, physically and emotionally. She chuckled bitterly to herself. Funny, how that battling against the god-pretender was nothing compared to the strife that was clashing within her now. The silver-haired elf walked to her bed and covered herself in its silken finery; it was becoming colder each day and she sought the warmth it offered. She took the covers, gathering it all into her arms then wrapped it around her cold body. She shivered and whether it was the chill from the coming winter or the lack of _his_ familiar heat next to her in bed, she didn't know. She didn't want to know. She didn't want to remember.

Warm tears suddenly spilled, escaping the resolve that she cautiously built around herself. The facade that she carefully crafted breaking now that she was alone. Alone and broken. And no matter how hard she willed herself not to, the tears continue to pour out. First trickling down her cheeks then soon becoming unstoppable. It wouldn't stop and she didn't allow it to stop. It was suddenly difficult to breathe and she clutched on her bindings and tore it from her. A violent sob wracked her body once that bindings were out and she in vain to calm herself.

_Futile_

She let out a silent scream, unable to stop her body from violently shaking as the sobs that she had tried to suppress started coming out. She sat up still shaking, still barely able to breath; she threw aside her silken covers in her bitterness. She buried her head with her calloused hands and gripped her scalp harshly, almost pulling out the roots of her hair and scratching her flesh. It was painful but her heart hurt even more.

Then she whispered out his name in her anguish.

It tasted familiar yet foreign. Her hand went to her lips, trying to stop herself from sobbing again, and she quietly spoke his name against her hand. _Solas_. It felt alien to her, as if she couldn't even recognize the name anymore and this upsetted her even more. And like this, the night went on and it was only when exhaustion started lulling her did she let sleep welcome her. She embraced the nothingness it offered, accepted the temporary peace and respite that it gave. And from a distance, a single wolf howled to the moon and that was the last thing she heard before she completely succumbed herself slumber.

Wilted, withering petals fell on the floor and silently she picked them up. Carefully, she gathered all of the fallen ones into her hands and gently clutched them. But they continued to flutter slowly onto the floor like an endless rain, covering her bare feet with its death. It was then she realized that the petals were coming from within her. And upon realizing this, she sank to the floor, mourning and in grief. The flower inside of her was dying. Despair started seeping into her, numbing her. She was growing colder and colder.

But then a hand, small and soft, brushed against hers that still held the wilting petals. She stared at the foreign limb before turning her eyes to the tiny figure sitting in front of her.

A girl, not more than ten years old, looked at her with such warmth in her eyes that Ithil was taken aback by how bright it was. The gentle look in her eyes shone radiantly against the cold darkness that surrounded them. Then the little girl smiled at her sweetly. Confused, the elven woman couldn't help but gawk at her.

"Hello," the girl greeted, her smile not faltering.

"W-what?"

Ignoring her confusion, the little girl's eyes settled on the petals in Ithi's hand."Yours?" she asked and pointed at them.

The elven woman looked down and frowned deeply, "Yes, but... my flower is dying."

The young girl shook her head lightly and gathered the dying petals from Ithil's hands. The elf couldn't quite understand what the little girl was doing but allowed her to continue taking away the petals. When at last her hands were empty of the flowers, the little girl spoke again.

"It isn't dead."

The elf's brows furrowed, not quite grasping what the little girl said. "But it's wilting away," she answered quietly, confused.  
The little girl laughed; her giggles sounding like little silver chimes on Lavellan's ears. She was greatly puzzled and slightly offended. What was so funny about flowers wilting away? What was so amusing that the flower that she carefully took care of was dying and that she can do nothing?

"Yes, it's wilting away," the girl confirmed. "But if you cut off and remove the dead ones, then new flowers will grow," she gestured with her little hands in a cutting motion.

"So.... it's not dying?" Ithil whispered. There was hope in the elven woman's eyes as she raised her hands to clutch her chest where her flower was.

"Flowers naturally wilt away but the source doesn't. So when the old flower dies a stronger and more beautiful flower will grow in its place," the girl explained with a big smile on her face. The little girl then stood up and urged Ithil to do the same.

"It will grow again," the little girl whispered and then disappeared.

For the first time in a long time, Ithil was able to sleep a little more peacefully.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to dearest crimsonadvent and BreLakor who have constantly given their support. Thank you so much!
> 
> This chapter had quite a bit of angst, I apologize. I promise you the fluff will happen in the later chapters but and it will all be worth it.

" _You are quite the persistent meddler,_ " Pride commented dryly.

The spirit who was rocking on her heels back and forth giggled in response. " _Am I?_ " she asked with a teasing lilt in her voice. She had managed once again to sneak into his dreams again; though this time, the elven woman's image wasn't summoned. Perhaps Pride had sensed that she'd come to pester him today. Even so, she wasn't at all disappointed. Giggling to herself, the little spirit kept the secret that she had met the elven woman.

" _You are,_ " he answered then shook his head, exasperated.

He then proceeded to walk away from her, the fade surrounding them swirling into motion and morphing into an unfamiliar setting to the spirit. Water erupted from the ground; soon, it turned into a small running stream with crystal clear water. Grass started to grow from beneath their feet and a tree appeared; its boughs hanging low.

Pride came to the tree and sat down next to it, leaning his back against the bark. Briefly, the spirit wondered if he had shared memories of her here. The little spirit smiled at the thought and flitted towards the elven man to sit next to him.

" _Isn't there some other couple whose affairs you can meddle with instead?_ " he miffed.

" _Maybe?_ " answered the little spirit, mischief glinting in her eyes. She turned her eyes elsewhere and noticed a small patch of flowers that were next to the tree. She continued, " _But I'm more interested in pestering you._ "

" _Look,_ " Pride started. He took a deep breath and continued. " _She and I - we are now simply strangers who share memories,_ " he uttered quietly, sadly. He look down on the jade-green grass before him and he heaved a sad sigh.

"There," cried the spirit in glee and dropped something atop Pride's head. Surprised, he raised his hand and felt his fingers brush against something soft and velvety.

She made him a flower crown.

The little spirit clapped her hands in delight, " _It suits you!_ "

Pride felt his temples begin to throb in his annoyance, " _Were you listening?_ "

" _Of course,_ " she stated a matter-of-factly then began gathering more flowers to make her own flower crown. " _If you really think that's what you both are, then why relive those memories? If you were truly strangers, then she shouldn't mean anything to you anymore,_ " she replied as she twisted the stems of the flowers.

She turned to look at him, " _Yet, here you are. And if I hadn't come, you would have brought out her image from your memories._ "

He sniffed, " _It's complicated._ "

" _That's what they all say but it actually isn't,_ " she answered and placed her finished crown on her own head.

" _Yes, it is,_ " he insisted. " _Not everything in this world is as simple as you make it seem! I-_ "

In one swift motion, the little spirit smacked Pride on his head; not quite enough to hurt but it successfully startled the man. He was rendered speechless for a moment. She was standing in front of him now, her hands settling on her hips and she pouted at him angrily.

" _You're so... - urgh!_ " she cried out in frustration, raising her hands to show her exasperation. "You say one thing but act completely different! For someone who calls himself Pride, you sure doubt yourself often."

Frowning deeply, Solas was finally able to shake off his initial shock. " _I chose my name as a reminder of my errors when I was young - when I was hot-headed and brash_."

" _Hmm..._ "

" _In order to fix my mistakes, I need to restore what had been lost in hopes to right the future._ "

" _And is it something that you need to do alone?_ "

He paused for a moment, as if he were hesitating. " _Yes,_ " he answered quietly.

" _Then I guess you never learned from your mistakes then._ "

Offended by her comment, Pride gritted, " _What makes you believe that I didn't learn from my mistakes?_ "

The little spirit jabbed her tiny finger to his chest, " _Because it is your Pride that is stopping you from going to her and have her help you._ "

_"This is my sin. It is I who should fix it - not her! I've already involved her too much because of my mistakes!"_

_"If she's involved already, then let her continue to help you! She cares for you!"_

_"And I care for her and it's exactly because I care that I cannot involve her any further!"_

_"Yet I'm sure it doesn't matter to her! If she is the person you love, she'll want to help restore whatever mistake you made!"_

" _You don't understand,_ " he muttered quietly, looking away from her eyes.

The little spirit let her arms hang loosely at her side, " _Yes, I do._ "

Feeling that their conversation was going to be fruitless, the little spirit turned on her heel and walked a few paces away from him; she was ready to leave.

" _You didn't name yourself Pride because it serves as a reminder of your mistakes. You named yourself Pride because that is still what you are,_ " and the little spirit flew up to pass through the tear in his dream.

Pride was left alone in the dream world, seething a little at the spirit's last words. But he reminded himself not to stay angry at her; she was simply acting on the reason of her existence and he cannot fault her even if her persistence was tiresome at times. The little spirit's tenacity made him remember fondly of better days. It reminded him of his _vhenan's_ own stubbornness and at that, he chuckled.

Realizing this, he cursed silently as his treasured moments with her began to flow into his mind. He knows that he shouldn't, that it will only bring him pain but alas, he was a sentimental being. His mind yearning for things of the past but his body trapped in the present of which he carved from long ago. It was hurting him. But he allowed the memories to come because he was selfish; he couldn't completely let her go.

The elf raised his hand and took the flower crown from his own head; it made him recall memories of not too long ago. Memories that began at Skyhold where he and his _vhenan_ would go together to the courtyard hand-in-hand and sit in the flower garden that she had asked to be made. She dearly loved flowers and would pick up blossoms wherever and whenever they would journey. If she gathered enough, she would make a flower crown for him and for herself and she would laugh brightly, shaming the sun with her own brilliance.

Cole described her as the sun and perhaps to many, she was. But for Pride, she wasn't the sun. She was the moon on a cold, black night; bright against the large expanse of the night sky yet gentle, never enough to hurt your eyes with its brilliance. And the stars, in their envy, would try shine brighter but could still never compare to her beauty. In their darkest times, she was lighting and leading the way. Her radiance surprised and captured him.

She was curious, elegant and determined and he caught himself surprised by her constantly. Then he realized that he was beginning to think of her more than an Anchor, more than just the Inquisitor; he knew he shouldn't, for the gravity of his mistakes were far too great. Thus he distanced himself from her before things would become out of hand. But because she showed a tenacious curiosity and eagerness to learn, she pestered him with questions to which he would eagerly answer hoping to impart some of their lost knowledge to her. Thus he continued to involve himself with her.

And because of this miscalculation, they kissed and he allowed the relationship to flourish; the guilt in him grew even more. So much of his mistakes were righted by her, an innocent victim of an unfortunate circumstance. She became the Anchor and in turn, sacrificed so much of herself in order to save others. She shouldn't have. Everything had been his fault. But he, in his own way, chose to continue to help her, counsel her in order to ease her burdens. Yet despite all the hardships she experienced, she remained beautifully brilliant in his eyes.Beautiful, but blissfully ignorant of her heritage. Ignorant of the true meaning of the _vallaslin_ that she so proudly wore on her face.

It was maddening, all of it. The guilt, the burdens, the secrets that he had to keep. Everything was in danger of spilling and he decided then that he had to save her, give her the peace that she deserved after this whole ordeal. So, he took away her _vallaslin_ and break her heart. He abandoned her in order to save her. He was certain that what he did in order to save her was the right decision.

Yet his mind and heart were at war, tearing him from within. His mind screamed at him to right the wrongs of his past but his heart still continued to yearn for her. But he knew had no right to love her for he was the reason why she was suffering. Suffering from the consequences of his actions. And he knew that if he were to tell her, she'd still graciously accept him and his faults and share his burden; but, she deserves better. He just can't continue letting her -

His temples had began throbbing from over-thinking; he massaged them and sighed, tired.

He was trapped.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank BreLakor for inspiring me to smack Solas in the head. As for the flower crown.... You all know I had to do it. I couldn't fight the temptation at all.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing support for this story! It really helps me to know that there are people out there who enjoy my writing. 
> 
> But I'm a bit sad to say that I won't be able to post anything for the next few days or weeks. It is the holidays after all so I hope everyone will understand. But do enjoy the latest chapter of The Little Matchmaker!

A little girl sat on top of a rock that was situated high up into the cliffs; her tiny legs dangling precariously at the edge of the boulder. Had she been human, she would have probably been afraid of falling but she was not. Crossing her arms and glaring at the swirling green sky of the Fade, the spirit huffed in annoyance.

" _I swear, that man is so stubborn and depressing. I wonder what that elven woman sees in him?_ " The spirit seethed, pouting.

But her anger didn't linger for long and soon she was once again thinking of ways to not only heal them, but to reunite the once-lovers. Pride certainly lived up to his name she mused. It was going to be difficult to lead them back to each other especially with how obstinate the man was. But then again, after seeing the state that the two elves were in, she thinks that pushing them back together would be more disastrous. 

They need time to heal. That was the most important thing. The two are too wrapped up in their feelings that they can't see anything past themselves. If they were to meet, they would never listen, never try to understand. As troublesome as it was, the spirit definitely believes that she should help soothe their hearts first before letting them see each other. Pride would be difficult to talk with and she didn't feel like visiting to him any time soon after their last conversation. 

Perhaps it was his age that made him so stubborn and the thought made the little spirit laugh. But she knew that he was much more than what he showed her; she could sense what he was. She sees a tree in him: tall, strong and proud. It has endured a great many things and still continues to grow and live as empires and dynasties rise and fall with the ages. She will need to meet him again and break more of his barriers to see what kind of tree he was in order to understand him. He was very good at hiding his true self.

The elven woman who was called Ithil was a different story. The little spirit smiled as she remembered her encounter with the woman. Though the state she found her was unfortunate; she was surrounded by darkness, sunk at the floor and clutching on to her wilting petals. But even then, she was beautiful. The spirit saw that in the darkness her flower was going to be stronger, more beautiful. Into what kind of flower the spirit didn't know but she was confident that it will be a flower that would match her perfectly.

Just as well, the spirit felt a familiar presence entering into the Fade. It her was again; briefly, the spirit wondered if the elven woman would be in a much better state than before. Would she be able to talk without breaking into tears? The spirit didn't know but she didn't let herself worry for too long. There would only be one way to find out and that was to slip into her dream.

Fortunately, she had not been far and it was easy to pass inside the dreams of people who have not much control over them. Quickly and silently, she found a tear in the illusion and slid in. A forest, lush and wide, greeted her eyes as soon as she entered though its bright colors were diluted grey by the the dark and smoky hues of fog and rain. The spirit sighed as relief spread through her body. This was definitely an improvement since her last visit to the elven woman's dreams. 

She could sense the melancholy that buzzed silently through the misty air; the spirit used that as her guide as she flitted through the thick trees and shrubberies. Not too soon, she encountered a large redwood tree, hollowed and empty but still standing tall and proud. A small crack at the base was the only entrance and she knew that the elven woman was dwelling inside. In what state, she will need to find out. The spirit planted her feet on the ground and squinted her eyes to try and peer inside.

"Hello?" greeted the little spirit and tip-toed to try and peek into the darkness of the tree-dwelling.

A few moments of silence and then her voice, like honey answered back, "Who's there?"

Suppressing a small smile of relief, she answered, "I'm lost."

She heard shuffling inside the tree and saw the elf peering from the large crack. The woman looked shocked at first but soon ushered the spirit inside.

"Come in, you might catch a cold if you continue staying out there."

Quickly, the spirit shuffled inside the hollowed tree. And as soon as she was inside, she marveled at the empty yet large expanse of the tree. The sounds of pelting rain against the rough bark melded in with the gentle harmony of the forest and the mix hummed and echoed beautifully yet sadly inside of the tree. She could sense the underlying sorrow of the melody. Still, this was better than seeing nothing than the never ending darkness that covered the elf before.

The elven woman checked outside the crack once more before turning to the spirit.

"What's your name, _da'len_?" she asked and walked towards her.

The little spirit broadened her smile, "Iris."

"Iris? That's a pretty name," smiled the elf and soon sat down. The spirit followed suit and sat next to her but kept a comfortable distance between them. Despite the weather, it was warm in the inside of the redwood tree.

"What about you, Miss?" she asked, turning to her. "What is your name?"

"Ithil," she replied, her voice pleasantly breathy. "What were you doing out here, Iris?" she then asked as her dark eyes turned to look at the girl.

Pouting, the spirit answered, "I was with someone. We were by a river and we were making flower crowns but we ended up fighting and then-"

"Did you leave your friend? Is that why you're lost?"

The little spirit frowned, sniffling her nose instead of answering. The woman asked no more, perhaps taking her silence as a yes. 

"You shouldn't have done that - walking alone in a forest you're not familiar with," she scolded, frowning.

"I'm sorry," whispered the girl, sniffling again to add effect. She heard the silent shuffling of clothes and felt a hand atop her head. The spirit timidly turned her eyes to look at the elven woman and was met with her kind, dark eyes.

"I'm not supposed to be the one who should hear that," she said quietly, lips tugging slight to form a gentle smile.

Choosing to stay silent, the girl nodded. 

"Good that you understand that, _da'len_." 

A comfortable but quiet atmosphere settled between them and mixed in with the litany of the thick forest and rain together; sometimes, the hushed rumbling of thunder would join in with the chorus of the rain forest's concert. The spirit wondered briefly if the flower inside of Ithil had stopped wilting; though, it will still take a while for it to blossom into an even more beautiful flower.

"You..." Ithil began. Iris turned to look at Ithil, cocking her head a little as if confused. Her brows creasing, confused but she continued, "I feel like I've met you somewhere before..."

Completely taken by surprise, the spirit let out a tiny gasp. "Have we?" and she felt Ithil study her slowly, taking in every detail of her face and her features.

This was shocking indeed Iris thought as she allowed the elven woman to observe her; those who weren't mages normally don't have enough power to influence their dreams in the fade, much less remember all the details. But then again, perhaps she shouldn't be because this was the woman Pride loved. There should be something extraordinary about this woman.

"I'm not so sure...," the elf trailed. She took one last look on the girl and dismissed the thought, "Well, you wouldn't be asking me if we did meet, but you do look so familiar."

Iris shrugged. Then turning her eyes back to the scene outside she wondered aloud, "When do you think it will stop?"

A moment of silence passed between the two of them, neither comfortable nor awkward and the spirit felt that the elf was thinking long and hard. Whether to try and comfort her with a lie or tell her the truth, the little spirit didn't know.

"I don't know...," the elven woman answered quietly. A rueful expression gracing her face. Her ebony eyes looked out of the crack, wistful and distant. "Maybe it will never stop..."

The girl frowned. That wasn't a good answer she thought. "I don't like that," she replied, allowing her displeasure to show.

" _Heh_ ," Ithil chuckled, a tinge of bitterness staining her voice. "We can't do anything about it. We have to stay here to be dry and comfortable." 

Those words echoed inside the little spirit's being and she scowled. She has become weak thought the spirit. The elf refused to go out in order to stay inside this dark and hollow cavern of a tree. She chose to stay, to be stuck inside the emptiness of the tree because it was comfortable. Because it was familiar. Like this, she will never be able to escape this misty rain forest.

Quickly jumping to her feet, Iris announced, "We cannot stay here!"

Taken aback by the suddenness, Ithil sputtered, "W-what?"

She turned to look at the elf, "We have to go outside. We can't stay here!" she said resolutely.

Uncertainty crossed the woman's eyes as she glanced to the crack, "We shouldn't... We could get wet." 

Iris placed her hands on her hips, mimicking how a mother would scold her child. "It's better than staying here forever!" she said, raising her hands and waving them exaggeratedly. 

She then began pulling on the simple but expensive tunic the woman wore. Despite the action, the spirit couldn't pull the woman to her feet and she huffed in annoyance because of it. If only she had been bigger she thought sourly. But Iris knew she couldn't force a person to do something against their will, even if it was for the best. Pouting, she decided that it would be best if she tried to persuade her somehow. 

"We should stay here. It's warm and we're safer here than going outside," Ithil reasoned when the spirit crossed her arms and plopped next to her, sulking. 

"How would you know if it's better being here?" the little girl scowled.

"Because it's safe."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," Ithil insisted.

The spirit turned to look at the elven woman, "No, you don't." Her reply was quiet and yet Ithil felt in her heart that she cannot deny that phrase. " Staying here, afraid to go out and get wet. You wouldn't know what will happen until you've walked out of this place." 

Uncertainty painted the silver-haired woman's face. She glanced at the crack for a moment before turning her eyes to stare at the little. "What if we get wet? What if we get sick? Or we meet a beast and I am unable to kill it and we get hurt?"

The spirit stood, "Sometimes, you just have to go out and see." Then she raised her small hands in offering and smiled,"And if we get wet, then we'll just dance in the rain." 

Iris saw Ithil clenching her hands into a fist before slowly raising her own hand and placed it on top of the little girl's. Though it was Iris who invited her to go, it was Ithil who grasped the little hand to lead them both out of the cave. They walked slowly, towards the jagged opening of the hollowed redwood tree and stopped just in front of it. She stood still there, gently clutching the soft and little hand; somehow Ithil felt that this was going to be one of her most important things she'll ever do.

She took one deep breath and they both stepped out into the rain. 

Once they were covered with raindrops, a warm feeling spread throughout Ithil's body. She didn't know how to describe it. Relief? Joy? She didn't know and yet it didn't matter to her. And for the first time in a long time, Ithil smiled. Neither sad nor bitter, but a true and honest smile.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support once again! To kind friends who helped make this chapter possible, I thank you! You all know who you are~

Perched on a low bough of a tall tree, the little spirit found herself observing a curious view. She had invaded Pride's dream once more, as was her custom of late. But unlike the times when she did enter his dreams, she quietly sat, watching the being as he stood solitary. This was a rare sight, for all the times that she had slipped into his dreams he would be the one to manipulate his dreams to his liking. To sate her own curiosity, she thought it was best not to reveal herself for the moment.

Pride had not conjured any of the illusions in this dream and yet she was certain that they were both dwelling in his dream. She wondered briefly if he hadn't let his hand influence the dream and instead allowed it to flow freely, letting his heart pour out and take shape before him and unknowingly, to the little spirit.

Steadfast he stood at the center of the clearing in the forest that his heart had created; white flower buds dotted the grass beneath his bare feet yet he took no heed of them. He gazed instead at the twilight sky that seemed to burst into colors of violets and pinks and oranges. Stars, barely seen from the brightness of the setting sun, speckled and adorned the dyed skies like precious gems.

Then a mirror, decorated grandiosely with elegant gold embellishments, sprung forth from the ground like magic. Two statues made of marble stood guard at the sides of the mirror; the entire thing towered over the elven man. It was an eluvian yet it was shattered. The reflection before Pride was marred by splits and cracks that covered it and yet it continued to glow an eerie blue. He stared into his reflection, scarred by the damage on the eluvian, and his expression was stained with a look of hopelessness, sadness and a bit of despair.

He raised his hand and reached to ghost a touch on the mirror before it cracked and then the glass shattered, falling down like rain. The sound of shattered glass broke the silence, echoing noisily in the dream. No, not dream. This was a nightmare.

These were his intimate thoughts, intimate dreams that he so closely kept and guarded and for once, the spirit was seeing a different side to him. The spirit couldn't understand what all of it meant, but she knew that this was a secret, something that he so closely kept and guarded and hidden away only for him to see.

She hesitated, though her ethereal body was ready to spring to help, and thought that if she were to disrupt the dream he would no doubt would lash out in anger at her for invading. She could feel the atmosphere blacken, the twilight sky transitioning into night. The forest darkened, the shadows of the trees forming twisted silhouettes, dancing eerily as they came closer and closer towards him. Then voices, hushed yet angry, spoke in words jumbled and garbled. Discorded and resonating noisily around them. Discorded and resonating noisily around them.

His expression distorted into anguish and he sank on his knees, broken, covering his tipped ears with his hands.  
He spoke but she couldn't hear him against cacophony of angry, urgent voices. And when it seemed like the little spirit felt that it was time to intervene, to end the nightmare, then did the moon appear.

Large and luminous, its gentle light bright against the dark canvass of the nightmare and illuminating their surroundings with it. The forest grew still around them, leaves danced lightly with the soft sway of the night wind. The dissonance replaced by the lulling quietness of the night. Pride turned his eyes to the moonlit sky and as he did, the buds that surrounded his feet began to slowly unfold its white petals, blossoming into beautiful white flowers. The fragrance spread throughout the entire area, perfuming it with its lovely scent.

The nightmare had ended.

The petals from the full white blossoms seemed to emanate a soft light at his feet under the moonlight. They were bathed with the moon's ethereal glow. With open palms, he raised his hands as if trying to catch the essence of the moon in the light. A smile, small and sad, graced his sharp features.

" _Even until now, only you can quiet the chaos in me, my heart,_ " he spoke quietly and reverentially. And against the silence, his words were loud, as if echoing in the open space. _"But I've made countless mistakes - much too many to count._ " He shifted his blue eyes, casting them down to stare at the ground before him, the shadows from the moonlight painting his face grimly. " _And no matter how much I wish to be with you - to build a future with you, we can't be together._ "

He closed his eyes, his form seemed to shrink yet he was still unmoving. " _If you were to be with me... you would surely fall._ " Wind passed through them, breaking the silence of the forest with a hushed whisper, and leaves began to fall and flit together in a hazy dance.

It felt as if she was seeing the torment that Pride had locked away deep within. His resignation and determination, mixing into a ball of confusion. The air palpitating with his inner conflicts that were bubbling out.

That moment, the spirit jumped from her perched branch. She cascaded carefully towards him, landing on a patch of the white blossoms a few paces away from the elven man. He may have noticed her presence, but didn't acknowledge it. Instead, his eyes remained cast down. She crossed her hands behind her, shuffling and shifting her tiny feet.

" _You're not surprised I'm here?_ " she inquired, her voice soft and meek.

Without even looking at her, he replied, resignation and bitterness staining his voice. " _What for? You've always invaded my dreams. Regardless of whether or not I approve of it doesn't matter_."

" _Hmm..._ "

An awkward silence settled in between them - forging a barrier that seemed so thick that someone could cut the atmosphere with a blade. She wished that she could cast a spell to relieve the tense air.

Another gust entered the clearing, disturbing the still scene of the dream. Suddenly, her eyes fell on the flowers that danced along with the flow of the strong wind. They littered the grass with its tender beauty. Then she noticed these delicate blossoms were attached to olive green vines. They snaked around the grass like a hidden trail and her eyes followed it. The vines, thin and flimsy, eventually lead up to large trees. Their tendrils and blossoms wove around the broad rough bark in a tight yet tender embrace.

When she saw the beautiful sight, she smiled.

The little spirit summoned all the courage she could in her small body. Breathing in deeply, she stepped closer, a few paces towards Pride. She prayed that he would not lash out angrily at her when she was closing in on his space. She was merely one step away from him now. She paused.

Crouching down next to him, she place her hands on her knees. " _Do you know what these are?_ " asked the spirit, pointing at the white blossoms that were scattered at their feet.

Pride turned his eyes to look at the blossom she pointed at. " _Does it matter?_ " Pride asked, arching a single, delicate brow.

She smiled. " _These are called Moonflowers._ "

Pride remained silent, disinterested. Yet she continued on to explain. " _They are special flowers. They only bloom when twilight comes and when night greets them; and their beauty can only be compared to the moon,_ " the spirit touched the shimmering petals with her small hands. She raised the blossom and showed him the vines where the flower was connected to.

" _These blossoms grow from vines. Though they have spread out this far, they are actually clinging on tightly to those trees,_ " she continued and pointed at a tree decorated heavily with twisting flora.

She stood and moved towards the decorated tree and played with the delicate white petals with her small, soft hands. " _Alone, the vines are flimsy and weak -_ "

Pride interjected, " _You say these vines are flimsy and weak, would they not be blown by the harsh wind when a storm comes or be burned under the heat of the blazing sun? Wouldn't it have been better to take away the sun or wind? Wouldn't it have been better if the flower had the chance to choose where it would spring forth? Wouldn't it have been kinder in the long run?_ "

Still smiling, the spirit answered, " _Without the sun, the plant would never receive the nutrients it needs to grow. Without the wind, its seeds wouldn't have traveled and spread. The plant would have never existed without them._ "

With tender hands, she plucked a flower from the olive vine then slowly flew to the man.

" _Perhaps the tree or flower didn't choose each other nor did they choose the circumstances that they are in... Yet they continue to live on together, facing the struggles being thrown at them,_ " she continued, taking his willowy and calloused hands.

" _With gentle wisdom and kindness, the tree leads, guides and supports the vines against the elements._ "

Then, with such gentleness, she placed the pretty blossom on his open palm, " _And perhaps the tree may have no need of flowers, but life would probably be less beautiful and less meaningful without them._ "


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to crimsonadvent and tehjaydek for being my betareaders! You both are so lovely~!

  
Her face was twisted into a curious expression; her nose wrinkling, lips tight and arms crossed showing her distaste. The little spirit stood at an entrance of a cave, its sharp outcrops eerily resembled the fangs of a large beast. Merely the thought of entering inside made her shiver, but despite its haunting appearance she stepped forward.

The smell of moss and mildew greeted her senses as soon as she slipped inside; water trickled down the walls and the spirit felt the wind blow past her. It felt as if the cave was alive and it made her shudder. She loathed the place, her disgust and fear uttered softly under her breath as she continued down the path inside. It was treacherous, slippery stones and sharp walls bit her hands whenever she slipped. The viscous feel of wet moss against her palm made her bite her tongue, suppressing a sound of disgust from escaping her lips.

As she stepped down a crag, she felt water dripping on her arm from above. Cringing, she continued her descent. Much to her joy, the narrow cavern began to widen out, revealing a drier section ahead. As she continued further in torches began appearing along the walls, lighting her way. For this, the spirit was grateful. She was nearing the end.

In her excitement, she began to run in hopes to reach the end of the cave faster. The sight of the door at the end soon greeted her eyes and she cried out in glee. Closer and closer she ran and finally she reached the wooden door. Its wood worn and metal hinges had become rusty with age but behind it was the someone she needed to see the most.

She pushed the door back with all of her might. As it opened, and she saw solitary figure, slumped over a desk. His back was completely turned from her. But from what she could tell, he was probably writing something and was ignoring her presence. The little spirit smiled nonetheless and drifted closer to the being.

"You really should try changing the front door! Maybe you should add flowers so that it would be more welcoming," enthused the little spirit to the elderly being.

"Only those who seek to understand the world and its knowledge deserve it. If they fear then they are unworthy of it," the elderly replied curtly, his hand still on his quill.The little spirit huffed but said nothing. She reached the desk and settled herself to the side, putting her hands up on the worn wooden desk.

After one final swish of his quill, the elder placed it back to its ink bottle and turned to the little girl. He had gray hair that reached below his shoulders married with a long beard that covered his neck and chest. Wrinkles were by his eyes yet his gaze was sharp and observant. She did not find his stern appearance intimidating for he was her long time friend.

"So, what do you need of me? Whose affairs are you meddling with this time, hm?" asked the elderly being, a teasing lilt in his voice.

The little spirit pointedly glared. "It is not meddling. It is called guiding," she retorted with a huff.

"If you wish to call it that then I do not mind. Either way, you are in need of me and the sooner we find out, the sooner you can stop meddling," said he, gesturing with his hands to make a point.

"You're so boring sometimes, Spirit of wisdom," miffed the little spirit.

"Perhaps, but that fact will not change your current circumstance. Now, tell. What is it that you had to come here for?" asked the spirit of wisdom, his long fingers twined together as he waited for her answer.

The little spirit's demeanor changed to a more serious one. "I need you to help me with reuniting two lovers,"

The elderly spirit raised a single brow. "Is not a simple nudge enough?" he asked with doubt and surprise in his tone.

The spirit's face sank into a disgruntled look, "The couple this time is of a special circumstance." Wisdom said nothing but his eyebrow was still raised. Sighing, Love decided to explain both of the circumstances the two lovers were in when she had met them as well as their current state after she had given her influence. The elderly looking spirit listened silently, patiently nodding from time to time to show that he was listening and thinking intently.

"- and my problem is I don't believe that _Pride_ will willingly return to her. Which is why I am here," finished Love with finality.

"I see," replied Wisdom. "And from what I understand, you want me to give counsel to the lady in order to lead her back to this someone called _Pride_?"

Love beamed, "Yes! So will you help?" She clasped her hands and inched closer to Wisdom. The elderly spirit placed a single finger to his tight lips, considering her proposal. This was a usual habit of his and the little spirit knew that he was thinking seriously. She could already see the golden scales in his head, weighing up the possible outcomes. After what seemed like a few minutes, the elderly spirit nodded and Love threw her arms around him in her thanks, squeaking in delight.

After her rapture, Love finally released Wisdom from her enthusiastic grasp. Now, they began to plan.

"Let us start first with an important question," said Wisdom and turned to her. "Where is _Pride_?"

Pursing her lips she replied, "To be honest, I am not sure. He guards himself fiercely that I cannot even sense his thoughts. Even during moments where I think I've caught him off guard, he still only reveals small parts of himself."

"Hmm..." thought Wisdom, his finger back to his pursed lips as he thought. "Have you tried leading them together in one dream?"

Love frowned deeply. " _Pride_ is capable of controlling and influencing his own dreams. I'm certain that once he senses my hand in the dream, he would somehow try to escape or force the dream."

"I think it would be best that we meet with this person called _Pride_? I would like to see him for myself," said Wisdom.

The little spirit balked. "You? Going out of your cave?"

"Yes. Why is it such a surprise?"

'Because you never go outside thought', the little spirit to herself but chose not to answer. Instead, she pulled his hand to force him to stand.

"My answer doesn't matter now. Come, I think we can try slipping into his dream," she urged and pulled the elderly spirit. Closing the door, they traveled through the cave once more, much to the little spirit's dismay. Though she was thankful that she had company now that Wisdom had agreed to help. The thought of the joint project had made her excited and she pressed for them to go faster. Travelling back to the lit parts and continuing until they reached the wet and jagged rocks. With more of a quickness to her step, they finally reached outside.

As soon as they had emerged from the cave, Love took a deep breath and spread her tiny arms, glad to have finally reached the open space of the Fade. Wisdom grimaced, shielding his eyes for not having seen daylight for so long but said nothing, simply watching Love twirl around in delight. As she took her final spin, spritely bouncing to a stop, Wisdom spoke.

"Do you think you can sense his presence?"

Love laughed, "That won't be a problem." Facing away from Wisdom she closed her eyes and focused in the energy swirling around the Fade. She could sense his presence immediately but to which direction she did not know. She concentrated in pinpointing his familiar cool energy and finally she found it.

"Oh! He's not in a dream today!" exclaimed Love in surprise. With amazing quickness, she flew towards a direction in the Fade, leaving Wisdom for a moment. In his shock, he scratched his head wondering whether or not to follow her. But that thought soon became unnecessary as Love quickly came back to him once she had realized she left the other spirit. With a tug of her hand on his sleeve, they both flew towards the direction of where _Pride_ was, albeit in a pace that Wisdom was more accustomed to.

They flitted and flew through the Fade and avoided more dangerous creatures that dwell in it. After flying through a rather small waterfall that was flowing from an old wooden house, they were now where _Pride_ was dwelling. The two spirits settled themselves behind the house where the waterfall was flowing out from window. Love, knowing that it was more important for Wisdom to see, nudged for him to sneak a look.

He peeked and saw the being called _Pride_ standing alone; his back was against a wooden shack with snow covering his bare feet. It was an unfamiliar location, perhaps something new that Wisdom hadn't seen. Then, squinting his eyes, he observed the solitary figure and also tried to read the energy that surrounded him. Silently, Wisdom finished and then turned to look at Love. A look of slight disapproval on his face.

"There's something that you failed to mention to me," observed the elderly spirit.

Cocking her head to the side, she looked at Wisdom with confused eyes. "What?" she asked.

"I believe you have forgotten to mention that _Pride_ is the Dread Wolf," commented the elderly spirit calmly but his eyes looked at her accusingly.

"Oh..." replied Love and smiled sheepishly. "I'm sorry?"

"Love, you should know better than to meddle in the affairs of a powerful being such as him" chided Wisdom with a disapproving look.

Pouting and crossing her hands, she retorted, "But they belong together! I can sense it!"

The elder paused, pursed his lips and brought his fingers to them. Again, she could hear the golden scales tipping inside his mind once again. Patiently, Love waited for an advice she knew was coming.

"Come, listen closely," whispered Wisdom and Love drew nearer to his form. "Here are the possible outcomes of your choices. If you wish to continue with bringing these two together, you will need to be made aware of the consequences. If you fail, you may receive the brunt of _Pride's_ ire and we can only imagine how his temper will be."

Love rolled her eyes but still listened without interrupting. The other spirit continued, "If you successfully reunite the two, then at best he will simply leave you be. Do you think that you can bear the consequences?"

She clapped her small hands in delight, "Wouldn't they be lovely together?"

Wisdom chuckled, fingers still on his amused lips. Consequences matter little to her once she has decided. This was how she always was and perhaps always will be. Despite that, Wisdom respected that part of her.

"It seems that you are set on your decision, make sure not to regret it," warned Wisdom and turned on his heel to walk towards where _Pride_ still stood. Then in a flash, sudden but quiet, the elderly spirit disappeared before her eyes, appearing near the man. As he appeared, _Pride_ merely looked his way. If he had been surprised, he had not shown any indication of it. The elf inclined his head slightly, a glint of curiosity in his blue-grey eyes.

"Hello," greeted Wisdom warmly.

"Greetings," replied the elf, his countenance rigid but welcoming. A pregnant pause, awkward as they are, settled between the two of them. _Pride_ openly stared the spirit, eyes studying the spirit's demeanor with interest. Then upon realizing the silence, he apologized. "Pardon my rudeness. It has been a while since I've last met a spirit such as yourself," he admitted with a small smile. He was still guarded.

A smile appeared on Wisdom's lips, hidden behind his unkempt beard but the crinkle in his eyes showed his amusement. "No harm done," was his curt reply.

"I apologize but my curiosity has been piqued. And I must ask, what does a spirit of Wisdom seek here?"

"I came here at the request of a dear friend," the elderly spirit answered honestly. "I am certain you are well-acquainted with her."

" _Ah_ ," understanding flooded his features before slipping back to a neutral expression. "And what is this matter that she wishes to know but must request a friend to ask in her stead?"

"I am sure you know quite well which matter she is interested in."

"So you are aware then?"

"To a certain degree, yes."

"Then you must understand why it can never be so."

"If that is the case, then I would not be standing here in your presence."

A frown, deep and disapproving, pulled on _Pride's_ lips. "This is not a matter that she can meddle nor is it a matter that should be taken lightly."

"Do you truly believe that this is something she treats lightly?"

"Is it not?"

A willowy finger was upon the elderly spirit's dry lips once more, a mannerism that he has had since the day of his creation. A bemused look crossed over his features, "Perhaps you may think so and I can not fault you for thinking that. My dear friend, Love, is a flighty creature for sure and has a bad habit of involving and giving much of herself to those who may or may not deserve it."

A pause and Wisdom crossed his arms. "But please understand that she involves herself not because of her habit of dreaming wistfully nor think that it is a simple amusement for her for the time being. She involves herself because her heart and her very essence believes that people deserve to be happy, especially those who have shown remorse for their grave sins."

 _Pride_ was silent. A chuckle, reserved and almost quiet, passed through the spirit's lips. Turning his back, Wisdom began to walk away, not waiting for the elven man's reply. In an instant, the spirit vanished before him.

Wisdom appeared once more at Love's side who was patiently waiting behind the wooden shack that had water pouring out from the window in an endless waterfall. She looked at Wisdom, eyes glittering with excitement. She was expectant. A crinkle in his eye and a mischievous smile indicated what she had hoped.

"I know where to find him."


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To dear crimsonadvent, who always patiently proofreads my chapters, thank you~!
> 
> To lovely tehjaydek, thank you for the lyrics for the game~! ;)

Ithil was in the Fade again, that much she was certain. Yet despite knowing that, the sounds, smells and sensations always felt eerily real to her. The way the wind would dance lightly on her skin, the way elfroot and fresh air intertwined and enter her nose and the way the forest would sing its silent lullaby to her. It was familiar yet still felt unreal at times. But the Fade had proven itself many times to be her respite, even during her most trying times.

With closed eyes, she breathed in deeply, delighted in the fresh air perfumed by flowers, the pollen making her nose tickle just a bit.. She breathed out and finally opened her eyes. The sight of a small village greeted, dazzlingly bright because of the spring sun. She found herself at the outskirts of a village, wooden houses shabbily made surrounded the area along with dirty paths that slithered into the main road.

Her curiosity piqued, the elf found herself observing the daily lives of the _shemlen_ who settled here. The elven woman observed with a smile at how they all lived simply and happily. Wives stood outside the door, kissing and bidding their husbands goodbye as they walked towards the fields while children burst out running from their homes. Friends greeted each other as they pushed and shoved in good fun. They scurried to the center of the village and gathered at the water fountain there. Their smiles were bright and free from any worry.

The elven woman thought, with a bemused smile, at how strange it was that the sight of a _shemlen_ village brought a warm comfort to her heart. Had she not become the Inquisitor, she would have never readily entered into unfamiliar _shemlen_ territory and yet here she was in the middle it. Perhaps it shouldn’t, she had changed ever since she became the Inquisitor, ever since she met him.

She strolled along the dirt path, taking in the sight of the village. As she approached the fountain, she heard the sound of a door banging open. Turning to her side, she saw two children running out, laughing in glee. The sight warmed her heart and the two children soon joined the rest who were excitedly chatting over by the fountain. The elf sat on the rim of the large stone fountain and observed the children with a small but pleasant smile.

Their youthful voices were loud as each chimed in, turning into a cacophony of names as they shouted different games. When it seemed that they could never decided did a voice, sweet and high, rang out loud.

“I know! Why don’t we play the usual game?” the little girl cried out. Her voice delightful to Ithil’s ears like the tinkling of tiny little bells.

Tilting her head so she could better see the leader of the group, the elf found herself a little surprised. The girl who had proposed the game looked almost familiar but she couldn’t understand why. The sound of all their little hands clapping in unison broke her from her thoughts and the children began clapping to the rhythm of a song that Ithil didn’t recognize.

_Not all is lost if you will seek_

_the path walked by Gods at their peak_

_don’t fear the wolves, for they will be your portent_

_through the mirror you shall find_

_the dreaded one who’s lost to time_

_dare to look and you will see find your heart there_

And with one resounding clap, their song and the game ended. Ithil’s brow worried as she thought of how strange and almost dark the lyrics were for a child’s game. She soon dismissed the thought as she watched the group laugh in glee. The little boys and girls continued chatting away but were soon called by their mothers to attend to their chores. All of them began to run, exclaiming and waving their goodbyes as they separated. All but one child was left from the group, the young girl who had proposed the game earlier.

The little girl turned to her and smiled. The elf, though surprised, smiled back at the child. She began to draw nearer to Ithil. The Inquisitor noticed how the girl’s steps were light as if she wasn’t tethered to the land but thought that that was impossible. The girl stopped just before her and Ithil was about to greet her when the suddenly the girl crouched down. It seemed a patch of flowers had grown near the fountain and the little one picked up one of the blossoms there.

She stood up and dusted off the dirt with a pat on her dress, and with the sweetest smiles that Ithil had ever seen, presented her with the blossom.

“Thank you,” she said breathily and took the flower from the girl’s hands.

The blossom was beautiful violet flower with large petals. It was a gentle color, growing darker along the tips. It was a flower that she doesn’t recall ever seeing before in her travels. Briefly, she wondered what its name was but that thought was soon set aside as the little girl spoke.

“Hello,” she greeted, her voice high yet pleasant.

“And hello to you too,” Ithil greeted back with a soft smile. She took in that chance to look carefully at the girl before her.

Her face was round and her eyes were bright with a color that Ithil couldn’t quite put a name to. Her dark tresses were braided with little flowers and cascaded just past her small shoulders. She felt a sense of familiarity settle in her mind but she didn’t dwell on it. Perhaps, she had come across this child in her many travels. So many lives passed by her eyes, she was Inquisitor after all.

“It’s called a Crocus,” the girl said, a smile gracing her pink lips.

Wrinkling her brows, the elf could only reply dumbly. “I’m sorry?”

The girl giggled and pointed to the flower. “The flower is a Crocus,” she said again.

Ithil felt herself flush a little in embarrassment after having been caught not paying attention. “I’ve never heard of such a flower before,” she replied truthfully. The elf drew the flower nearer to her and sniffed its lovely scent, “It’s pretty though and I’ll definitely remember the name.”

The little one smiled again and scurried to sit next the the elf, dusting of the dirt from the stone fountain. The child hopped on to the space next to her, eyes bright with mirth. No sooner, she began to kick the air in glee and humming the tune of the song.

“What was that song that you sang earlier?”Ithil asked and turned to look at the girl with curious eyes.

The girl whipped her head in her excitement, “Do you want to play?” she asked as she continued to rock her feet.

“But I don’t know the words.”

“I’ll teach you!” the girl cried out happily, flashing a toothy grin. She pushed herself to her feet and quickly stood in front of Ithil. With her tiny little hands, she pulled the elven woman’s hands and urged Ithil into position. Their hands were clasped together and the girl began to sing the melody.

The song began slowly, the rhythm adjusted for Ithil to feel it. With each clap of their hands, Ithil grew more and more sure of the pattern and was soon laughing and singing along with the girl. After finishing one more round of the game, she saw mischief flashing in the little girl’s eyes and she started singing and moving faster.

A smile began forming on her lips and the elf too began to catch up to the child’s tempo. Faster and faster they sang, she was barely able to breathe as they continued. The child soon started shrieking in glee as Ithil sang the lyrics on her own. With one last clap of their hands, the round had ended and the two of them were panting.

“That was fun!” exclaimed the girl breathily.

“It was,” she chuckled and they waited until they were able to breathe normally again. The elven woman suddenly thought that it had been a long time since she was able to laugh. It made her smile and as if the girl knew what her thoughts were, returned an even sweeter smile.

“Although,” she began, “aren’t the lyrics of the song rather… strange?”

The girl smiled mysteriously, “Is it?” She tilted her head and again the nagging feeling as if she had met this girl before came over the woman.

“Yes,” she said carefully,“I don’t know why but it feels… It feels as if it’s important.” She bit her lip, not quite sure if what she said had made sense to the little one.

The child's dark eyes sparkled momentarily and had Ithil blinked she was sure to have missed it. It gave rise to confusion but she paid no heed to that feeling. The young girl continued to give her that enigmatic smile and as the elf was about to ask her about the song, a woman’s voice was heard.

“That’s my mum,” said the girl. “I should head back home. It was nice talking to you, pretty lady,” she squeaked and curtsied. The child gathered up her skirts and began to run to where her home was. Her giggling was like silver bells to Ithil’s ears. As the elf looked at her retreating form, the sound of her giggles faded along with the scenery. The dream was ending.

She woke up abruptly, her eyes shooting open but temporarily blinded by the brilliance of the morning sun that passed through her windows. Squinted eyes soon learned to adjust to the dazzling brightness that permeated her grand room and she grunted, sleep trying to pull her back. She sighed and laid her hand upon her eyes to block out the light.

It was still much too early for her to move around and as much as sleep was beckoning her back, she fought it. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the images and the scenery of what the fade made before she forget. The elf was now forgetting much of what had transpired in her dream yet the feelings of perplexity and mystery had not left her. She recalled a _shemlen_ village, children singing and playing and a girl with a flower.

Finally, the woman sat up and scooted out of her bed. She stretched her body and heard joints pop, much to her delight. Gracelessly, she rose from the bed and walked to the windows. The elf felt lighter now, in more ways than one can express. Many moons had already passed since the day she had defeated the God-pretender and the day that Solas had abandoned her.

Memories came pouring back as well as conflicted feelings yet they were so tightly interlaced that at times she didn’t know what to think. Vigorously, she shook her head in an act to banish those thoughts. Thinking of such things will not help her or anyone. She knew that the longing in her heart would forever be there but she believed that it would be best to stow it away. She took one more deep breath to calm herself.

Silently, she whispered to the morning, “Thank you...”

Ithil didn’t know why but ever since the day that she felt stronger, she had been whispering those words as soon as she woke up. It became her ritual before her day started. Although she whispered those words, it was never truly directed to anyone or anything but it gave her a sense of comfort and in truth, she was truly grateful that she lived up to this day.

With renewed vigor, she walked as she shed her clothes and hummed a tune.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once more to dearest crimsonadvent for being my proofreader!
> 
> And to all my readers, your kind comments and kudos always warms my heart and gives me inspiration to write this fic and improve on my writing. Thank you very much!

Perhaps Inquisitor Ithil Lavellan should have known that something was brewing without her notice when she began singing the song that she had learned in a dream.

 

Many days had passed since the day she first started dreaming of the song and she had dismissed it as just something pleasant that she just conjured up in the fade. But then it kept on repeating and every time she wakes up, the scenes become all muddled up and muted except for the song. At first, she would hum the melody as she went about her duties in Skyhold. Gradually, it became broken lyrics accompanied by the occasional humming.

 

It was late one evening as she was readying to retire for the night did she notice that she had been singing under her breath. She paused, holding out the silken covers of the blanket  for her to snuggle into, and wondered at how she had been able to sing most of the song. Although slightly bothered, Ithil fell into the Fade with relative ease.

 

Familiar sights, sounds and sensations came over her as she found herself in the same dream again and yet she had no control over her own self in it. The same scenes repeated themselves and like a magnet, she was being pulled into the scenery by something unknown.The mysterious girl came to her again and taught her the song just as she always did. When finally she was called,the dream ended with Ithil opening her eyes;the song still fresh on her lips as she woke.

 

The elven woman practically threw her covers and jumped out of bed to her private desk. Hastily opening each drawer, she scrambled to find a quill, ink bottle and parchment. She soon found them all and began scratching down the dream before it becomes forgotten and the lyrics soon followed after. She was panting from the energy she had exerted but stared intently at what she had written.

 

Each scratch on the parchment was haphazard, although she didn’t care for that. What was important were the contents in her message and she was glad that had been able to write as much as she could remember.

 

The woman laid down the parchment onto her desk. Darting her eyes quickly, she read through her errant writing. The words were all haphazardly written in her haste to transcribe as much details as she could yet it was legible enough for her to understand. She hummed in satisfaction as she folded the paper and hid it in one of her drawers. Padding her barefeet on the soft plush of her expensive rug, Ithil Lavellen decided that the moment she was free, she would visit the library.

 

Council room meetings, overlooking through the supplies and shaking hands with bothersome nobles tested the elven woman’s patience but much to her relief, she had finally found time to escape from her duties. Briskly, she walked out from the room where she had last chatted with an Orlesian noblewoman and almost ran towards the stairs that led to her own.

 

The elf heard the echoes of her scuffling boots as she made her way to her quarters.She soon reached her room and quickly went to retrieve the folded parchment that was hidden in her drawers. Unfolding the paper, she skimmed through her writing to check if she still could understand what she had written in the morning. Content that she could, she folded it again and sauntered off to the Inquisition Library to begin her research.

 

Several days had passed with the elven woman pouring over every ancient book and tome she could find. Nothing. Ithil found absolutely nothing. She had scoured over every ancient text that she could find in the library, every tome about history, the Elves, the Dalish and even Tevinter. Yet it yielded in nothing, not a single text or letter about the song in her dream. The fruitlessness of her search jabbed her and all she could do was breathe out calmly through her nose. Huffing, she gracelessly plopped down on the nearest wooden chair and pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

“Why, look who we have here,” a voice, deep and sultry, cried out.

 

A smile naturally came upon the elf’s lips. “Hello, Dorian,” greeted Ithil with a laugh as she turned her head.

 

The man languidly laid his hands atop her chair and he leaned towards her, his hip jutting out ever so slightly. The woman laughed again as Dorian began to peer over the books that the elf surrounded herself with.

 

“Whatever are you reading?” asked the man as he picked up the book that had been laying open in front of Ithil. His brow arching in curiosity as he flipped to look at the titled of the ancient tome,

 

“Some personal research,” replied Ithil with a tired sigh.

 

“Research you say!” cried out the man before throwing down the book at the table which startled Ithil. “And here I thought you were reading more of Varric’s books!” teased the man as he took a chair and seated himself close to the elf.

 

She laughed again, “Unfortunately, the latest volume for Hard in Hightown hasn’t been released yet.” Her expression then turned serious. “But really, I’ve been searching for every ancient book that’s available in the library but I have found nothing.”

 

“What is it that you have been researching anyway?”

 

Shifting her eyes back towards the tomes that covered her table she sighed. “I have…” she began then played with her fingers nervously,  “I’ve had a recurring dream for the past few weeks.”

 

Dorian raised a brow yet stayed silent. He gestured with his hand to urge the woman to continue.  Her eyes were downcast yet seemed to look past everything before her. She gestured with her hands, trying to give word to the dream she had been having.

 

“In the dream, I meet this little girl and she teaches me a song from a game,” she continued without looking at Dorian. “I don’t know why but I feel as if the song is important and I have been trying to search for it.”

 

“Fascinating,” commented Dorian with a twinkle in his eye. “Is this some secret fantasy you have that you have failed to mention to me before?”

 

“Dorian!” cried Ithil, both appalled and amused, and slapping him hard on the arm.

 

“But let’s be serious, shall we?” Dorian began as he played with his moustache, “What are the lyrics to the song in your dream?”

 

Ithil pulled out from her pockets the folded parchment where she had hastily written the lyrics of the song, and gave it to Dorian.

 

“What’s this?” he asked as he began unfolding the paper, “A secret letter declaring all of your fantasies or perhaps a secret location where we will meet under the guise of night? Quite forward, aren’t we?” he said as he wriggled his brows suggestively. “Unfortunately, I quite prefer the company of men and I am very well taken,” he teased again and Ithil couldn’t stop herself from laughing uncontrollably.

 

“Oh, you!” was Ithil’s exasperated response before slapping him in the arm again.

 

Dorian smiled smugly as he opened the folded parchment, his eyes darting quickly as he read the written lyrics. Then he pursed his lips, forming it into a thin line.

 

“Now, I know that we both are very aware at how brilliant and amazing I am,” he started as he look at Ithil and then flicking his wrist, “but unfortunately, even I don’t recognize this song.”

 

Ithi smiled weakly, replying with a tired tone, “It’s alright, Dorian. Perhaps this song isn’t even in books.”

 

He gestured with his hands again, perhaps with more flair than he should and promised, “If I find anything in my private collection, I’ll send word.”

 

“Thank you,” she replied with a warm smile. “But I should be off, some nobles have been complaining about the room arrangement,” she said as she took the parchment from Dorian’s hands and stood up to take her leave.

 

“Delightful company, I’m sure,” the man drawled with a devious smile.

 

“Quite,” she replied curtly and began to walk out of the library. Soon enough, she had reached the foot of the stairs and paused there, hesitating. The elven woman breathed in deeply, an act to steel herself and began her descent down. His room emerged as she stepped out of the doorway and she had to mentally brace herself, from what emotion even she didn’t know.

 

The grand murals that he had left behind were still ever present. The golden and orange light of the torches that surrounded the rotunda bathing them with a warm glow that was all too familiar to her. Images of her accomplishments to be forever adorned in the walls of her keep, to remain here far longer than she could ever. They were beautiful but if she were honest, she would have ordered Josephine to fetch the most accomplished painter in all of Thedas just to have him paint anything over the frescos. Perhaps it was partly because she still felt the pangs of his sharp betrayal towards her and she doubt that it would ever go away, but another part of her felt that it would be pointless to have it done. Bitterness wanted it to be taken away but she was determined not to act upon it, her stubbornness to not act upon her temporary whims because it went against her morals always won.

 

She stepped into the room, the echo of it resounding and twining with the caws of Leliana’s ravens, so familiar and yet it wasn’t. Before she began to reminisce, she briskly walked to escape the now somber and quiet domain, she reached the door and twisting the knob -

 

“Soft whispers, gentle on the heart. Tugging carefully on the memories, relishing, remembering like a song but confusing.”

 

A shriek, startled and shrill, escaped her lips and Ithil felt herself jump out of her skin. She would probably never get used to this. Whipping her head to the side, she immediately found the owner of the soft yet raspy voice.

 

“Cole,” she began, “I’m aware that you can’t help it but please, for my own heart, do give me a warning before hand.”

 

“Sorry,” the lanky blonde murmured.

 

The elf knew he really felt that way and she never truly felt upset. She reached out to him and place her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it in as if to soothe him.

 

“No harm done,” she commented then smiled. “Although, please do stop reading my mind whenever you please.”

 

The young man said nothing but his icy blue eyes peeked over the brim of his hat. With one last pat on his shoulder, the woman turned to the door and went off to where Josephine was residing. No doubt she was already late for her important meeting about room arrangements.

 

No sooner, Ithil had entered into Josephine’s office and she almost wished she hadn’t. Two nobles in all the finery that they could afford were bickering against each other. Josephine’s expression was neutral yet her eyes showed the frustration that was boiling underneath. This will be a very long meeting, thought Ithil with a huff as she proceeded to Josephine’s desk.

 

The meeting had been long and tortuous to say the least. The two nobles, though tried to maintain their passive looks, slowly scurried away to their new rooms; Josephine was no better but had called servants to help fetch each noble’s belongings. Ithil didn’t even have enough energy to run through the door, tired and stressed as she was. But as soon as she stepped out, she went towards the courtyard to breathe in some fresh air and bask in the openness of the sky.

 

She escaped the confines of the hard stone walls of the castle and turned to look heavenward. Twilight coloured the skies in vibrant purple, pink and orange hues as stars began to dot it with stark whites. The quiet wind brushed by her, making her shiver from its cool touch. She no longer felt trapped. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to breathe in. She exhaled and the song escaped through her parted lips.

 

_Not all is lost if you will seek_

_the path walked by Gods at their peak_

_don’t fear the wolves, for they will be your portent_

_through the mirror you shall find_

_the dreaded one who’s lost to time_

_dare to look and you will see find your heart there_

“Curious,” commented a voice, dry yet almost husky but definitely feminine. Snapping open her eyes, the elven woman turned to where the voice belonged and found Morrigan’s proud figure emerging from the shadows. Moonlight soon began to cast down on both of their figures, the gentle light illuminating the whole of Skyhold with its pale light.

 

“What is?” Ithil asked, turning her whole body to face Morrigan’s approaching one.

 

“That melody you just sang,” answered Morrigan as she stopped just short of where Ithil stood. “I have never heard of such a song in my studies, both Ancient Elven or the Dalish.”

 

Shrugging, the elf replied, “It’s a song that I’ve heard from my dream in the fade. I tried to search for it but I have never heard of this song from the Dalish and so I believed that it was Ancient.” Shifting her feet, she continued, “I’ve searched in the Inquisition Library and have sought some counsel with Dorian but my search has lead to nothing so far.”  Another tired sigh escaped through her lips

 

The elf felt Morrigan shift and step away from her, “It is said that songs often contain hidden messages: longings of the heart, morals that children should follow or perhaps even to lead you to where you should be.”

 

“What are you saying?” asked the elven woman, “Do you think that this song that I’ve heard in my dreams is a message?”

 

“It may very well be,” said Morrigan, her voice lilting with mystery. “May I know the lyrics?”

 

Again, Ithil took from her pocket the parchment she had shown to Dorian and handed it to Morrigan. The woman’s hands seemed so delicate as she snatched the paper from Ithil’s, and with a quick flick, unfolded the paper and read it.

 

“‘Tis a riddle, though quite cleverly masked as a song!” cried Morrigan as she continued to stare intently at the parchment on her hands.She scanned the written lyrics and pursed her lips to think.

 

“I do believe that I have an idea where the answer might lie,” said she and gave back the parchment to the elf. No sooner, she began to walk to the direction that lead into Skyhold’s walls. Noticing that the elven woman didn’t follow, Morrigan gestured with a dainty hand.

 

“Come,” the dark haired woman commanded, bidding Ithil to follow her. An air of mystery seemed to pass over them as the elven woman was being lead. They soon entered into the domain, endless walls lining up as they continued on their path to wherever Morrigan went.

 

They entered to the hall where Morrigan’s eluvian was safely kept from prying eyes. It stood against the stone walls; the splendor in its appearance and the magics that made the images before it swirling. The arcane aura  surrounding both their forms made Ithil shiver, marvelling in the majesty of it.

 

She had never been gifted with the blessing of magic but it had always amazed her; the elf darted her eyes to her marked hand thinking that perhaps this was the closest possible thing that would allow her to perform magic’s wonders. Although it was borrowed, it was enough. A clenched fist dropped down and dark eyes gazed at the swirling magic.

 

“The song in your dream mentioned mirrors,” began Morrigan as she waved her hand over the crystal surface of her eluvian.  “And it also mentioned the path of gods,” the raven haired woman turned on her heel and peered at the elf with her golden eyes.

 

“In all of Thedas, there has only been one religion that worshipped many deities as well as made use of mirrors. I believe the answer to the riddle of your song lies past my eluvian.”

 

“Are you saying that whatever I’m seeking is in the Crossroads?”

 

“‘Tis a lead and I am very certain that you may find something useful there,” Morrigan replied, her golden eyes turning into an eerie color from the glow of the eluvian.

 

Ithil felt her heart begin to pace. Excitement? Nervousness? Fear? She couldn’t quite understand nor could she give word to the emotions welling up inside of her but the elf knew that whatever it is that she is seeking for must be past this mirror, past the Crossroads.

 

Her form drew nearer towards the eluvian and with outstretched hands, reached inside. The crystalline surface rippled as her hand moved past it; magic’s touch surrounding her and soon she was enveloped by it.  

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to crimsonadvent for being my betareader~!
> 
> And thank you for all the kind comments. It's hard to believe that all of you took the time to read my humble fic.

Magic, curling softly in small tendrils, moved and skittered along her skin, drawing goosepimples. It was a sensation that Ithil Lavellan was familiar with yet it always felt new whenever she felt it. The cool touch of the gentle aura soon turned warm as her arm passed through the crystalline surface of the eluvian. One more step was taken and she plunged into the pool of thrumming magic. It almost felt like she had just entered into water, her senses muted but adjusting. Another step and the power’s embrace ended.

She almost tripped as she stepped out from the mirror but caught herself just on time before Morrigan could see her. The other woman surfaced from the crystalline pool of the eluvian and they found themselves again in a place that was almost forgotten. The Crossroads.

Mist surged from everywhere, cloaking the vast area in its murky blanket and were it not for the eluvian’s height, the elven woman would not have been able to detect them. A strange feeling of nostalgia overcame her as Ithil moved her eyes to all the eluvians in the area, both broken and unbroken. She breathed, again the hairs on her skin rose from the chill and sad veil that wrapped around here.

“The path walked by Gods at their peak,” Morrigan’s voice, loud against the echoing silence, broke the elf from her thoughts.

A sound, one that Ithil couldn’t quite put a word to, escaped her lips as she drank in the sight of the crumbling monuments of the Crossroads.

She took a step forward though unsure of where she would take the next, “Where do you think...” the dark eyed woman trailed off before turning to look at Morrigan.

“What is the next line to your song?” asked Morrigan as she took several paces forward.

“Don’t fear the wolves, for they will be your portent through the mirror you shall find...”

A smirk tugged at the mage’s lips, “Then let us hunt for wolves.” Morrigan began to stalk to the direction of the untainted Eluvians. Ithil followed closely behind, not trusting herself to separate from the mage and slightly cursing herself for being navigationally challenged.

The scoured the entire area, their feet surging the thick mist, drawing random patterns with each other their steps. The elven woman allowed her eyes to travel as they moved, admiring the ancient yet elegant architecture of the lost place.

“Don’t let yourself be distracted,” gently chided Morrigan.

Ithil shook herself from her reverie despite how much she wished to drink more of the ancient sights and briskly walked closer to the raven haired woman. They’ve reached deeper into the ruins now and the elf found herself staring into a lone eluvian, smaller in scale than the rest and cracks riddled the surface. Her eyes turned skywards to admire the intricate carvings that were at the top of the mirror. Rings made of wood wove around the mirror she was certain that perhaps at one time it had been carved intricately but now it is blackened and the wood has rotted from age and neglect.

“Where do you think this eluvian led to?” asked the elf, wonder lacing in her voice as she continued to marvel at the mirror before her.

“A place well hidden perhaps? We may never know.”

She heard Morrigan’s shuffling footsteps and Ithil quickly turned to follow the woman again.

“Morrigan, where are you taking me?” the elf asked as soon as she was behind the woman.

“There is but one eluvian, furthest from all others, that may be the one you seek.”

Overgrown grass riddled the area around them, the mist still swirling beneath their feet and concealing what was ahead of them. When Ithil, wishing to fill the silence that hung between them, was about to converse did something emerge from the mist. With each step that they drew, the details of the eluvian grew clear.

The scale of the eluvian was grand, towering over them much like the eluvian from the Temple of Mythal. Two enormous statues, ornately carved from marble, stood at each side. The stone guardians were shaped as wolves, the black marbled one arching low as if bowing and the white one looking skywards and howling. The two women moved closer to observe the eluvian.

The crystal surface was pristine, a sign that it still functioned. The murmurs of magic buzzing in the air as Ithil drew closer to look at her reflection. Her skin prickled as she heard Morrigan whispered a spell and the mirror immediately came to life, the aura suddenly emitting a soft blue light. The swirling patterns on the surface distorted Ithil’s reflection and a feeling unknown to her began to creep into her bones.

“Dare to look and you will see find your heart there…” breathed Ithil, a slight tremor to her voice.

“Whatever is behind this eluvian are your answers,” Morrigan looked at her, a smirk tugging on her dark lips. “Shall we?”

The elf inclined her head ever so slightly and the mage stepped into the mirror, disappearing before her eyes and then she too plunged into the eluvian.

The familiar sensation of magic enveloped her, soft and fleeting, and she stepped out. The sound of her step greeted her, boot on marble floor, and it echoed in the quietness of the place they entered.

She gasped as she gazed into the ruins that was behind the eluvian. Dark stone paths littered as far as the eye can see, overgrown grass peeking from the cracks. Trees that surrounded the paths had become overgrown, their roots upturning and marring the otherwise flat roads. And wolves. Wolf statues surrounded the area, carved from black and white marble and gold and silver embellished into their lines in elaborate circular patterns, contrasting it beautifully.

“This is…” Ithil began, breathless.

“I believe we have found the Temple of Fen’harel,” commented Morrigan, a lilt of curiosity in her voice as she too inspected the area.

“Morrigan,” began Ithil as she looked at the raven haired woman seriously, “I think I want to go inside alone.”

The woman sneered, “You expect me to simply sit back and not explore an unknown temple?”

Ithil furrowed her brows, “Please,” she pleaded. A silence, pregnant and tense, formed between them as the elf continued to beg. Morrigan’s hard expression soon softened, sighing in defeat. “Fine. You did, after all, let me to drink from the Well of Sorrows.”

“Thank you,” said Ithil as she began to walk towards the temple. “I promise I won’t be gone for too long.”

Alone the elf walked on the stone path that eventually lead to the sacred structure. The sound of her footfalls mingling with the sounds of the forest. Thick canopies blocked most of the light provided by the moon, but slivers of moonlight escaped and danced along the road as a forest breeze flew by. Wolf statues lined up the path before her, like guardians. An eerie feeling slithered into her heart as she dared to look at the eyes of one of the statues but she shook it off.  Like this, Ithil continued on her path, each step becoming closer and closer and finally, she could see from the distance, the temple emerging from the darkness like a beacon.

Her heart started to quicken when she had finally reached the steps that lead to the inside of the ruins. Her body  shook when she took the first step but willed herself to stay calm and breathe. She climbed up, counting each step she took and trying to steady her breathing. She reached the top and paused briefly to look at the entrance, an archway that was intricately carved and decorated;the design was unique despite the elven imagery they were designed from. It was beautiful and grand but the beauty was lost to her, she was too preoccupied with the erratic beating inside her chest.

Why was she feeling this way?

She entered into the temple and her dark eyes immediately saw the crumbling ruins of a once-glorious structure. Stones were cast astrew around the room, foliage growing and seeping into the decaying ruins. Despite it being Fen’harel’s temple, a sad almost sorrowful sense of nostalgia tugged at her heart. Nevertheless, admiring ancient ruins of old was not her reason to be here and so she continued further.

The sound of her footsteps echoed loudly as she delved in deeper but she heard nothing but her own heart, beating painfully against her chest. Each hall that she found herself in was elaborately decorated with lupine figures, statues and carvings and she shuddered at the thought of so many eyes staring at her.

She pushed aside another door, quickly, in order to escape the gazing eyes of the wolves and she stumbled into a grand hallway. High arcs and large columns as far as she could see. The room was illuminated by the moon, and as she gaped a glint in the darkness caught Ithil’s eyes. With unsteady steps, she walked towards where she had seen the flash of light.

She was looking at a familiar sight, Fen’harel’s figure on the floor. Metals cut into squares tiles and shaped into the pattern of the wolf in an ornate mosaic that she had seen at other temples before. She stood at the center, gazing at the eyes of the wolf with a feeling that she didn’t recognize.

The sound of a door creaking startled her and Ithil turned to look.

She felt her heart stop.

“Solas,” she gasped, her eyes wide and suddenly her knees felt weak.

He looked just as surprised as she was. “ _Vhenan_ ,” he breathed, his expression uncertain.

They stood frozen, their eyes locked together. Somehow, Ithil forgot how to breathe again.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to dear crimsonadvent and slavetothemocha and BreLakor for proofreading this chapter.
> 
> Honestly this chapter was one I had struggled the most to write so far. And do forgive me for that cliffhanger from the previous chapter. 
> 
> Thank you again for the wonderful support and for all of your comments! They just warm my heart to know that you guys love my fic. If you see any mistakes in the chapter, kindly point them out so that I can further improve the quality of my writing.
> 
> And also, because I am a horrible person, I forgot to thank tehjaydek for drawing her version of the Spirit of Love! Thank you Jay! <3 It's amazing and I love it and I feel so bad that I keep forgetting!!! Here's a link to her art! http://tehjaydek.tumblr.com/post/108728110923/the-little-matchmaker-for-the-blackdash-3

A strained silence seemed to stretch between them, so heavy that Ithil felt as if she were choking. They stared into each other’s eyes, frozen to the place where they stood. Was she trembling? She didn’t even know what to feel; she was certain that her heart had already stopped beating.

He was the first to break eye contact; shifting his gaze down and brows furrowing. In the back of Ithil’s mind, she wanted to reach out and smooth those creases. She realized then that despite how many moons had already passed, a part of her loved him still and that broke her from the inside.

“Solas, I-” her voice sounded foreign to her ears.

“Please,” he pleaded to her still unlooking, choosing instead to gaze hard at the ground. His own voice sounded broken, he was gripping the rim of the door. Were his knuckles turning white? She couldn’t see so well with so little light in the room.

He was so painfully close.

“Don’t do this, please,” she begged. Her vision was getting blurry, hot tears were forming but she refused to blink. “Don’t-” she choked. Don’t break down. Don’t cry.

“Don’t push me away,” her voice was straining, struggling to somehow control.

Was it cold in this room? She was trembling so much. Ithil clenched her hands, she felt so light-headed now. She couldn’t see or hear anything. She shut her eyes and prayed that tears wouldn’t escape.

Please hold me she thought.

Her clenched hands were painful, her nails digging on the skin of her palms. Why was she feeling this way? Did all those months meant nothing? Those months of healing was meaningless? In the inside she wailed.

“Vhenan,” she heard him whisper, his own voice sounded strained. Her heart skipped, yet it was far from feeling the sweet warmth that she had often associated it with.

“Stop!” she snapped, her voice grating her ears. Breathing was so difficult. “Why do you call me that? Don’t call me that, please.”

“If you wish,” was his reply. A cold distance to his voice, unfamiliar.

Calm yourself she thought.

“Why-” she began, confused, “What are you doing here?”

His eyes shifted nervously. “I could ask you the same thing,” was his reply, polite. Much too polite and painfully distant.

“I am here because I believe that my dreams had lead me here.”

Something in the expression of his eyes changed but it was quick. Perhaps Ithil was imagining it. “I see,” he replied carefully, “and why do you think your dreams have lead you here?”

“My answers lie here,” she declared, her voice quivered at the end. She cursed at that.

Stay strong.

“There is nothing for you here.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked. In the back of her mind, she prayed that he would answer that it was because of her.

Silence. Heartbreaking silence. She felt her heart begin to waver.

“Why did you have to appear? Why after all this time?” she found herself asking, forcing herself not to look at him. Her voice was cracking already.

“Why when I thought that I could finally move on?” she grated.

Her heart is breaking, she could practically hear it in the deafening silence.

She heard him take a sharp breath. Silence again.

He chuckled, sad and almost bitter, “Why indeed.” His shoulders slumped, almost as if he had surrendered. “You know as well as I that there is no answer to that question.”

“Why does it still hurt?” she whispered. Her vision grew blurry, tears were escaping, falling down her cheeks. “Wha-” she cried out startled, she quickly tried to wipe them with her shaking hands.

She chanted again and again ‘Don’t break’.

The sound of her breaking heart seemed to overwhelm her and she realized that she could no longer hold herself back. A terrible cry came out of her lips, mingling with the silence that it just made it echo in the empty hallway that they were in.

She didn’t want him to see this part of herself.

All of her frustrations, sadness and disappointment blended together at that moment and she could no longer hide it from him. Ithil hunched over, her body spasmed as she wailed. With her eyes closed tightly, she let out another cry, louder than the ones before it. Her hands immediately went to her chest, grasping and clenching, trying to somehow breathe. She was drowning from the pressure. It was agonizing.

She heard footsteps and snapped her eyes to look up.

He was away from the door now, just a few paces before her. Uncertainty etched in his features and yet he said nothing. His lips pursed tightly while hers trembled.

It felt heavy. Too, too heavy. Why is she always the one who breaks? His eyes shift, trying to look away from her but he could not ignore the crushing pressure of the atmosphere. Breathing was suddenly so difficult. Her hiccups and sniffling only made the silence so much louder.

His hand was suddenly outstretched towards her as if he were trying to reach her.

Please reach out to me she heard herself think.

He clenched his hand, withdrawing.

Turning his back to her, he was going to walk away again. Please no. Please not this again.

“Don’t go,” was her strangled cry.

He paused a few paces just before the doorway, “It wouldn’t be right,” she heard him say. “When you find out the truth of what I’ve done, you will realize that you could never love me.”

He was going to leave again. No! Stop!

“Solas!” she called out, the strangled sound grating her ears. He stiffened at her cry, his shoulders trembling so slightly.

“Vhenan,” she managed to choke, her face must be twisted in agony.

He was at the door already. He turned to her,  and she looked at him with her pain and tear-filled eyes. She called him a part of herself despite all that has happened. Something in the way he look told her that he snapped, and his face too twisted into something. He turned to her.

He suddenly reached out to her, she too opened her arms. They crashed into each other in the middle of the Dread Wolf’s heart. He fell into his knees with her.

She gripped the fabrics of his tunic, crushed her face on his chest. He smelled different. She doesn’t know why it crushed her even more.

She let another wail rip out from her throat. It felt like she was being burned from the inside.

“Vhenan,” she cried, voice straining.

He hushed her, combing his hand through her now long locks. She hadn’t the energy to cut her hair since the day he left her broken in the grotto. Her grip on him grew tighter; her knees were hurting for when they scraped the ground as they landed on mosaic floor. It didn’t matter to her.

They stayed like that for so long.

In the back of her mind, she wished that they’d stay like this forever. That they will never go back to reality. Ithil knew that was impossible.

She had managed to calm down now; she wasn’t wailing or screaming. Sobs still ripped through her body and her throat was still burning but she was finally able to control. She pulled away from his embrace and he too did the same. They looked at each other and briefly Ithil thought how horrible she must look.

The pained expression he had made her cry again.

She felt his calloused fingers brush away the tears that were streaming down her eyes again. Her lips quivered, she bit them to stop. The hot tears didn’t stop.

“Breathe, vhenan,” she heard him urge. A bittersweet feeling came over her as she heard him use that name again.

She opened her mouth and inhaled, his scent mingled with the air. She held her breath and released it, trying to measure her breaths. All they could hear was her breathing echoing in the hallway.

“You-,” she began but paused, now unsure of what else to say. All words seemed lost to her now. She looked up and dared to stare at his stormy blue eyes.

“Why did you leave?” she choked on the last word. Why couldn’t she stay calm?

His expression morphed into one of anguish and it almost seemed that he too wanted to cry. “There were certain things I had to take care of,” he answered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Was it so important that you didn’t even say good-bye?” she asked, not looking at him. She bit her trembling lip again. She breathed and forced herself not to quiver. “You promised me that you would explain after everything was finished but you left.”

“I did promise.”

“Was I so unimportant that you didn’t even explain to me why? So unimportant to you that you didn’t even bother to tell me that you were leaving?”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, the hurt clear in his voice.

“But... it’s true, isn’t it? You-” she hiccuped and found that she couldn’t say. She drew her hand to her mouth; a vain attempt to stop the sobs from coming out again.

“I didn’t leave because you were insignificant,” he rasped as he cupped her chin. “I left because I was needed.”

“I don’t see that,” Ithil whispered, voice still trembling and she cursed at that. “All I see is that you had given up on me,” she paused and looked at him with pain-filled eyes, “On us.”

Silence.

Somehow they both knew that was true, his silence just confirmed it. Ithil moved her hands and rested them atop his chest. A sad yet wistful look crossed over her features as she felt the quick and rhythmic beating of his heart underneath her palms.

“You left before you told me everything,” she began as she turned her eyes to his with a determined look, “And now that I know where you are, you will tell me.” She fisted the fabric of his tunic and looked at him.

He pursed his lips and his eyes shifted as he observed the look on her dark, tear-stained eyes. Moments passed as he looked at her in silence, she gripped even tighter and hoping that he will..

“Very well, I will tell you,” he began and gestured for her to stand and she rose with him. “But not here and not now,” he said as he began to pat the dirt and dust off of their clothes.

“When and where?” she cried out frustrated and glaring at him.

“On the night of the next full moon, let us meet at the foot of Fen’harel’s  statue in Emerald Graves.”

Ithil narrowed her eyes, “How do I know that I will meet you there? What if you don’t come at all?”

A pensive look flashed his features for a moment then his hand instantly went to his jaw bone necklace. With one swift movement, he removed it from his neck and took Ithil’s hand. Raising the pendant, he placed the item on her palm. The bone felt smooth and light on her hands and yet the gesture felt heavy; she knew that he had never parted from the necklace and she was certain it was somehow significant to Solas but she had never questioned him about it.

“You shall see me,” he whispered.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again for all the lovely comments you had left! Your support, kudos and comments have definitely kept me going! 
> 
> And special mention to slavetothemocha, crimsonadvent and BreLakor who were so patient with me as I was writing this fic. I love you guys <3
> 
> And also, please do check slavetothemocha's wonderful gift she made for me! She drew the Moonflower scene from chapter 6 and it's the most precious and beautiful thing ever. ;A;  
> http://inquisilicious.tumblr.com/post/110256128213/for-the-blackdash-of-a-scene-from-her-lovely

“Hurry,” a voice, high yet cheery, cried. The voice echoing in the emptiness of the vast space that is the fade. “We might miss them!”

A tiny spirit, flitting to and fro in a frantic rush, urged the other figure to move quickly. The elderly looking spirit flew in a much steadier pace behind the frenzied little one. “Do not rush me,” chided a much elderly voice, “I dislike it when I am being rushed.”

“But we’ll be late, Wisdom!” huffed Love as she flew a bit further away from her friend.

“Oh, I doubt that,” mirthed Wisdom. “On the contrary, I believe that we will arrive in the area much earlier than they will,” chuckled the elderly looking spirit.

Love rushed towards the elderly spirit to grab his hand. She then began pulling him in an attempt to make him go faster. “Hnnng!” she cried as she tried to force Wisdom to quicken.

A deep frown settled in the elder’s features, “I understand your excitement to see them but I implore you not to do this.”

The little spirit pouted and quickly let go of Wisdom’s hand. Slumping her shoulders forward she would have begun sulking were it not for the elderly spirit’s hand settling on one of her shoulders. He urged her to move and they continued on to the path at a much slower but steadier pace.

“Now, now,” comforted the wise spirit, “How about to help pass time, let us talk about what happened to them in the temple.”

Love brightened at the idea; her eyes were sparkling in joy as she nodded furiously.

Chuckling at her enthusiasm, the older spirit started, “What did you think of their meeting when we saw the from across the veil?”

Her little features scrunched up a bit as she began to remember the events that were unfolding before them from before the veil.

“It was a little painful, even from beyond the veil, I could feel the hurt pulsing,” said the little spirit, a far-off look in the expression of her eyes. Then a small smile played on the little spirit’s lips as she continued, “But I knew right then that I wasn’t wrong.”

The little one turned and looked at Wisdom with her clear and bright eyes. “I wasn’t wrong, right?”

“That we will have to see,” said the elder as another chuckle passed through his lips. “Incidentally, we have arrived,” he remarked Wisdom, his eyes crinkling as he smiled.

The two spirits pushed forward, putting the weight of their entities into the thin barrier that separated them from the living world. Magic permeated along the area and it crackled lightly as they tried to press further into the veil to see the events unfold clearly. A whisper of the aura and soon they felt the boundary being stretched at its limits. The veil thinned ever so slightly and the scenes from the other side began to unfold before their eyes.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

Shadows that were casted low from the sun soon began to ebb and blend together with the coming darkness. Night was soon upon them and Ithil had ordered that they set up camp before the sunset. They found a clearing where they could set and everyone began to put up their tents and prepare the fire to warm them.

As the sun had finally began to disappear and darkness creep did they finally put up the last tent. With an elegant flick of his wrist, Dorian woke the fire for the camp. It roared as it woke but soon became docile and it provided them the warmth they need for the cold night.

Ithil turned and drank in her surroundings, trees with thick boughs covered the night sky and the light from the fire had blocked out the smaller lights of the twinkling stars. Yet, the high and full moon’s light could not be overpowered by the firelight. The sight of the moon made the elf’s heart skip, nervousness slinked through her heart and making the tips of her fingers cold. She drew near to the stoked campfire to warm and calm herself; she will need to sneak away soon.

“Hey there, Bubbles,” greeted a raspy voice.

A smile spread through Ithil’s lips as she felt a presence settle next to her, “Hi Varric,” she greeted in turn.

“So what have you been up to? You've come and go so often, I hardly see that throne of yours being put to good use.”

She laughed, “Can I help it? Nobles are pulling me from every direction to join in their parties. I barely have enough time for myself.”

“Well, you are the Inquisitor,” shrugged the dwarven man. “And you still owe me an interview,” he said, nudging Ithil with his shoulder.

A smirk tugged at her lips, “What? Am I the next subject of your book?”

“It’s going to be a best seller, I can already tell,” a smirk also pulled on Varric’s lips.

“I’ll tell Josephine to free one day so that we can talk,” Ithil chuckled.

“I’d definitely appreciate that,” said Varric truthfully. “Also, you’ve cut your hair?”

A bashful look settled on her features and she played with the locks with her fingers. “It was getting too long for me and frankly, I missed my short hair,” she admitted.

“You look better with it,” commented Varric and Ithil truly appreciated the compliment.

“Thanks, Varric,” said Ithil with a delighted smile playing on her lips. Not too soon, the elf pushed herself up and patted the dust from herself, “I’ll need to go check something out, I won’t be too long.”  
  
“Where are you headed off to?”

“I want to check on Fen’harel’s statue. It’s a Dalish thing,” Ithil said, a mischievous grin on her lips.

Varric, shaking his head, sighed, “I don’t know what’s up with you Dalish and your superstitions.

Ithil laughed, “Tell the others I’ll return soon.” Varric limply waved his hand, dismissing her. With that, the elf soon entered into the woods. Her figure soon disappeared as she walked further from the fire and allowed herself to be welcomed into the forest. Melodies of the night breeze mingled in with the low tunes of birds and animals that were awake at night. Quietly, she moved to not disrupt the sacred ground of the Emerald Graves.

The air was cool as it passed by Ithil, chilling her already cold fingertips. Her heart was still pounding, nervous from the thought of the impending meeting. She licked her chapped lips, clenching and unclenching icy fingers, it feels as if the weight from her last meeting had never left her. She followed the trail, her bare feet feeling the ground with each step, traces of ancient magic tickling her skin as she moved forward. Finally, she came out from the foliage and saw Solas standing by the large lupine statue.

He stood there by the statue, his back to her and shoulders rigid. Shadows swayed along with the dancing veil fire as he turned, he must have sensed her presence. Achingly slow, he moved and yet his gaze was not on hers but on the ground that permeated with ancient magics. The veil fire lit his features in the night, illuminating his face in hues of blues and greens and for a moment she thought that he looked otherworldly. He turned his gaze to her and she was struck at how different he looked and felt.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Clenching and unclenching her hands, she drew nearer to him and whispered thoughts to calm herself. Carefully. Slowly. She breathed in time with each step she took as she drew closer to his proud form. The earth beneath her soles felt as if it crackled but she paid it no heed and when she was only a few paces from him did he greet her.

“Andaran atish’an,” she heard him greet.

Ithil stiffened, the words sounding much too foreign to her despite it being the language she had known. She only nodded, much too dumbfounded at the Dalish greeting that spilt from his lips. Was this his way of comforting her? She didn’t know. Solas silently gestured with his hand for them to sit. She crossed her legs and made sure to stay a few paces from him; she knew that couldn’t afford to break down again when she didn’t know if this will be their last meeting.

“So, tell me,” she uttered carefully, “what is the truth?” Her brows furrowing focusing on his coming answer.

“I will tell it to you in time, but for now, I want to ask you a question,” he began coolly, his face calm and controlled.

“What is it?” she asked whilst cocking her to the side yet she remained guarded.

“What do you know about the Dread Wolf?” he asked, his eyes piercing into hers that she didn’t find the strength to look away.

“Fen’harel?” she asked, confusion painted her features. “He is the trickster god that by his actions caused the fall of our people. He is the cause of our greatest tragedy.This information I’m certain you are familiar with.”

“Yes, that is what the Dalish have been taught to believe; that he is evil and that he is to be hated because he had taken away the glory of the ancient elves,” he bit out harshly, his blue-grey eyes turning bitter as blue-green fire illuminated them.

“What does this have to do with the truth, Solas?” she questioned.

His eyes searing into her own. “Would you believe me if I were to tell you that he dwells within our world?”

Ithil’s blood ran cold, spreading to her whole body until she felt its icy chill prickle to the tips of her fingers and toes. She no longer felt the ground beneath her as the weight of his words crashed on her beliefs; challenging the stories of what her Keeper told her to believe in. With closed eyes, she breathed and allowed the scent of the fresh air and forest to come to her; she needed to be calm. Clenching and unclenching her fists as they sat upon her folded knees, she finally opened her eyes and stared long and hard at his.

“Fen’harel is with us?”

“He is.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“I do.”

Dare she ask, “Where is he?”

Solas’s expression hardened, lips tightly pursed as if he afraid yet his his firm gaze never left hers. A deep breath and he whispered, “He is… before you.”

Ithil took a sharp breath, her heart had stopped beating, the weight of his words bearing down on her. In this open area it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Dark eyes gazed into the elven man that sat across her, the veil fire torch casting shadows upon his sharp features; the darkness that surrounded seemed to mock her of her blindness. It was as if he had cast frost upon her, freezing her into the very ground. She lowered her gaze, her each movement like molasses, and she focused her eyes on the parcel strapped to her belt.

The wolf jaw bone pendant.

Clenching and unclenching her icy hands, she dared to gaze back at the elf whom she thought she knew. His full lips tight, his expression masked into one of apathy yet she saw how ever so slightly his jaw tensed. The silence was crushing her.

“You are him,” she finally uttered, not keeping her gaze on his eyes.

“Yes,” he breathed.

Her heartbeat seemed so much louder against her ears. “Then, Solas is…?” she began yet all words seemed to fail her.

A smile, sad and as bitter as some smiles were, pulled on his full lips. “Solas… Solas is the name I took in the time that Fen’harel is uttered in scorn. But Solas is still who I am but is simply another side of the same coin.”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer; she couldn’t summon the words, neither common tongue nor elven. The veil fire in between them crackled yet it didn’t provide her the warmth that she need for her chilled fingers. Ithil willed herself to calm and she clenched her hands into fists to hide their trembling.

She pushed herself up and felt Solas’ gaze follow her standing form. Shaky steps were taken as she drew closer to where he sat. The weight of his gaze unnerved her yet she did not allow it to stop her as she kneeled next to him. She bit her lip, nervousness causing her to hesitate for one moment but then raised her hands to touch him. His blue-grey eyes widened when her chill fingers settled on his jaw. His eyes shifted to look at her and she caught his sorrowful gaze.

“All this time?” she whispered, her breath ghosting over his skin. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He raised his hand to grasp hers gently, the warmth of his fingertips spreading to her in the simple act. His face twisted to one of sorrow and his breath seemed to shudder as he breathed. “You wouldn’t have understood,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion.

Ithil felt tears prickling in her eyes, hurt from his uttered words. She blinked and a single tear rolled down on her cheekes. “Please don’t say that,” she begged and began to stroke his cheek. “I loved you and I still do.”

“How can you say that? Don’t you realize who I am?”

With trembling lips, she answered, “The moment you had accepted my love was also the moment that I had promised to do the same.”

“Can’t you see that I’ve lied to you?! Do you truly think you can love the Dread Wolf?,”he spat, yet his words had stung no one but himself. The grip he had on her arm, tight but not painful.

“You are you,” she uttered, a deep frown etched on the expression of her face.

She heard him take a shaky breath and she leaned in to draw him into her embrace. Twining her arms around him, she nuzzled his neck and breathed in his scent, familiar and yet not. How long had she not been in his arms she wondered. The woman drew her lips to his ears and like a prayer she whispered.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you crimsonadvent and tehjaydek for betareading for me! 
> 
> I'm both happy and sad that it's finally the end of this story. To all those lovely people who have fallen in love with my character Love, thank you so much. You have no idea how much your words mean to me when you actually liked my OC! For all those kind words, kudos and support you've given me, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I am so glad that all of you have read my story and have enjoyed it and I hope that with this final chapter, it will give you that feeling of satisfaction of having taken the time and chance to read this.
> 
> Do comment! I'd love to know your opinions about the ending I've written as well as tips on how to improve my writing. Thank you once again!

Silence permeated the walls that surrounded Solas. Sadly, not one whose peace he would have gladly welcomed but one that was foreboding. He opened his eyes and was greeted by the black of the night that seeped through the windows like tar. He blinked once and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark shadows and the images painted on the high walls of the rotunda slowly began to appear.

Details of the murals were lost in the tar blackness but silhouettes of all the figures he had painted remained, seemingly staring at Solas with their unseeing eyes. There was a strange mix of emotion that developed in him once he returned in the place that he had resolved to abandon; a feeling that hadn’t left him since the moment he had once again stepped into this - or rather, his room. He shifted slightly on his bed and tried to ignore the gazing eyes on the walls.

Solas turned to his side and heard the squeaking metal of the door, it echoed in the rotunda - filling the loud noiselessness of the painted walls. Immediately he raised himself and gathered wisps of the fade in the tips of his fingers and summoned an orb of light. The room glowed a soft white hue and revealed Ithil who stood by the wooden door frame.

Her pale hair seemed to glimmer from the brilliance of the light in the room; her dark eyes glittering like stars in the night. She looked otherworldly despite her tousled hair and wearing only a simple cotton shift.

“I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep,” she whispered, lips down turned into a small pout.

“You weren’t,” he reassured and the expression in his face softened as he smiled.

The woman bit her lip, her features telling him she was hesitating but then she quickly padded towards his bed. As she drew near, she kneeled on the floor next to him and placed her small fingers on the mattress of his bed and hid behind them. “I couldn’t sleep,” she confessed quietly, the softness in her voice pleasant on his ears. He had missed the sound of her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he finally said with a frown, “the walls have eyes and ears.”

And truly they did and it was not because of the figures he painted in the elaborate murals, he was certain that if it wasn’t Leliana who was on guard, it was those under her that were concealing themselves.

“I don’t care,” she breathed, still hiding behind her fingers. “It’s not as if I haven’t been the subject of scandalous rumors before.”

Solas pursed his full lips, worry clearly painted in his features. They shouldn’t - rumors will surely spread and the Inquisition didn’t need more after what had happened since the time he had returned. Yet she was here, sneaking to his room in the dead of the night under the watchful eyes of the walls of Skyhold, however even he could tolerate this much - he had half-expected to be thrown into the prison along with the criminals there after what he had done and what he had told but he surmised that Ithil had a hand as to his predicament now. Nevertheless, despite him having enough freedom to roam around Skyhold did not mean that she should freely interact with him in private; it will damage her reputation.

“Please,” she begged, “just for tonight.”

Solas stared into her pleading dark eyes, hesitating for only a moment before sighing. “I will wake you before Skyhold rises but only for tonight.” And with a flick of his hand, the orb of light slowly dimmed, hiding their forms in the guise of night.

A pleased smile broke into her expression and he invited her into his bed, shifting himself and raising the blanket for her to share it with him. Ithil quickly climbed into bed with him and laid her head and hand upon his chest and his own arms wove around her in a protective embrace. He pressed his face onto her hair and the scent of flowers, earthen but fresh, filled his senses and he realized then how much he missed her. This was not the first time she had sneaked into his room in order to simply lay and sleep with him by her side. Realizing this and what little time before Skyhold wakes, he pulled her flush into his body and relished in the warmth and sweetness of her presence.

The sound of her steady breathing gave him comfort, a peace that he hasn’t felt since the moment he stepped in the castle, and suddenly he too felt the call of slumber.

“I had avoided entering this room,” the sound of her high yet hushed voice pulled him from his sleepiness.

“Did you?” he asked, blinking off the sleep in his eyes.

“I did,” she admitted and looked up at him through her lashes. “I had often asked Dorian to come meet me somewhere else so that I won’t have to enter this room,” she continued with a sad and almost far-off tone in her voice.

Regret and guilt now woke him, mixing together and forming into something heavy that settled on his chest. He could only imagine the great lengths she took in order to escape her pain. Solas knew that he couldn’t blame her. He knew her to be a creature that felt much and felt strongly - so much so that her temperament would probably be the end of her if not for her strong nature. But perhaps it was because of the strength of her emotions that her spirit was indomitable. She was always a paradox - a mystery that was marvelous and that continually surprised him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally replied, certain that the long pause he had taken worried her.

A quiet giggle passed through her lips, soft like the peals silver bells, “I’ve forgotten how grim you are.” She turned and gazed at him with an amused expression in her eyes, her lashes framing how dark they were. “I wasn’t asking for an apology,” she teased.

“I know,” he answered, bittersweet emotions now tugging at his heart and turning his expression into an almost tender and sorrowful one, “but I feel that it is still something that I needed to say.”

A loving smile pulled at Ithil’s lips and he felt her push herself closer to him, wrapping her slender arms around his body.

“Although, I do have a question to ask you,” said he with a thoughtful look.

“Oh?”

“I have… been thinking for some time since we last talked personally,” he began.

“Really? Are you certain that is a good idea?” she teased and he felt the smirk on her lips.

“Fair enough,” he chuckled, “but nevertheless, I’ve been trying to understand something.”

“What is it?”

“Why did you forgive me so readily despite all that has happened?” the question that had haunted him since she had forgiven him finally out, a weight upon his chest released.

A thoughtful look crossed her features and she hummed, perhaps thinking deeply. Solas held his breath, awaiting her answer.

“It’s difficult to find the words to describe it ,” she admitted and he could sense that she did thought deeply, “but if I can put it simply, it’s merely not in my nature.”

He arched his brow, not quite satisfied with her answer but he remained silent, waiting for her to continue and not disrupt her.

“It is not in my nature to stay angry at someone - much less to those who are special in my heart,” she whispered, now running her fingers upon his chest, “Maybe it is my weakness. Others will view it as being too kind or too weak, but this is who I am.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question,” he replied.

She looked up to stare at his eyes again, turning her body to lay on her stomach. “Then I believe in second chances, in redemption - most especially to those who are sorry and are repenting and are doing something - anything about it..”

A distant thought occurred to him then and he heard the aged voice that he recognized as wisdom say, _‘She involves herself because her heart and her very essence believes that people deserve to be happy, especially those who have shown remorse for their grave sins.’_ He briefly wondered then if the spirit was talking about Ithil instead of the Matchmaker.

“Even in this you surprise me,” he whispered as he cupped her face. She had a tender smile upon her lips and her eyes were glittering brightly in the darkness; she drew near to him until their noses touched. She closed her eyes and allowed her lips to linger only a breath’s width from his own. It was a gentle gesture and he too closed his eyes and simply feel her closeness. But as they stayed that way, he realized that since their reunion, he hadn’t kissed her.

He reached out with his hand and gently brushed her pale hair before leaning ever so slightly and pressed a gentle kiss upon her lips. She sighed into the kiss and he felt her melt against him; she drew her hands on his chest and with her fingers drew patterns with her feather-like touches. He felt Ithil’s smile in the kiss and when they finally withdrew, he gazed at her with tender blue eyes. Her dark eyes fluttered open and he thought briefly how he could be lost in the dark depths of them.

“I have a question,” said she, a ghost of a smile on her face.

“Oh?”

“Why did you meet with me when you could have continued to run?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, “I didn’t believe that was an option.”

“It was an option. You could have continued running but instead you didn’t. Why?”

“If I had run, I half-expected a certain someone to drag me by the ear just to meet with you,” he answered, a bemused grin on his lips.

A confused expression appeared on her face, not quite satisfied with his answer. “There you are again with the vague answers,” she pouted.

Solas’s expression turned somber as he made to meet Ithil’s gaze, “I apologize… certain habits are hard to rid of.”

She scrunched her face and pressed a pad of her finger on his nose forcing it to turn flat. She giggled and then stuck her tongue out and he arched his brow, unamused. “Revenge for not giving me fair answer,” she told him and shifted her position to lay on her side.

He too shifted in the small space of his bed and embraced her from behind, settling his arm on her stomach and pulling her form closer to his, shortening the distance she had put between them. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her there. The loving touch made her shiver yet she said nothing. Solas was certain that she was still sulking until her small hand wrapped around his, twining her much slender fingers with his willowy ones.

“That answer will satisfy me for now,” she whispered, “but know that you will need to tell me everything eventually.”

“I will,” he replied, his wispy breath tickling the skin of her neck. A moment later he heard her yawn, no doubt sleep’s seductive whisper pulling her in.

“Sleep,” he urged gently as he brushed to tuck in a stray strand, “I will meet you in the fade.”

Soon after, he heard the rhythm of her breaths steadily becoming slower. The heavy yet comforting pull of sleep beckoned him and soon after he joined her. The familiar sensations of magic from the fade welcomed him and he felt the the weight of the waking world finally releasing his spirit, allowing it to wander.

The next moment, he opened his eyes and was greeted with the sight of Skyhold’s gardens. Plush green grass and flowers of different shades and hues decorated the lush garden. Olive vines climbed and clung on to the large stone walls of the great castle and along the courtyard, people of different races laughed and mingled as if there was no wrong in the world. A warmth that began in his chest began to spread through his body and he recognized the emotion as one of familiarity. Solas realized that he was pulled into Ithil’s dream.

His eyes wandered amongst the walking figures, trying to find that one that had grown familiar. Roaming eyes soon settled on the sight of pale hair that shone brilliantly under the morning sun, a small smile formed on his lips when he saw she was in the courtyard’s garden. Blossoms that were cultivated carefully by the gardeners surrounded her, dancing and swaying along with the melodies of the wind. He gazed at her delighted expression and with hands clasped behind him, he walked towards her sitting form.

Drawing nearer, he noticed then that Ithil was not alone but in the company of a familiar little girl with flower-woven hair, a knowing and amused smirk pulled at his lips when he finally reached the pair. He then observed in silence when he noticed that the pair were busying themselves with their craft, their hands weaving in flowers expertly, tucking stray stems behind each little blossom. A delighted squeak leaped from the girl’s lips as soon as she was done with her little crown of flowers.

“I’ve finished it!” cried the girl, kicking her little feet in her excitement.

“That looks very pretty,” smiled Ithil as she too finished her own flower crown. She glanced up, her dark eyes twinkling with light of the morning sun, and gestured for him to sit with her. Curious but he remained wordless as he sat on a patch of grass beside her, and as soon as he did, she placed the earthen crown upon his head.

A peal of laughter, like the sound of a ringing chime on a windy day, spilled from the little girl’s lips, amused by the sight of him.

“You look ridiculous,” Ithil laughed as she fixed the crown on his head, perhaps an attempt for her to give him a semblance of dignity. He didn’t mind looking this way, not especially with how he saw the worry in her eyes she normally hid was gone in this world.

“If it makes you laugh then I wouldn’t mind looking ridiculous, _vhenan_.”

The way the expression on her face brightened made his heart ache in such a strange but wondrous way. Her pleased smile made his heart throb as it always did and he too couldn’t hide his happy expression, not here when they were safe from the scrutiny of the waking world. She bit her soft lip and her gaze fell to the grass before her, an attempt at hiding her joy but her twinkling eyes and the rose blush on her cheeks betrayed her. How he wished he could kiss her at that moment.

A movement caught Solas’ eye and he stared as the little girl with flower-woven hair stand and place the crown of blossoms on Ithil’s head. “Forget-me-nots for the pretty lady,” said the girl with a knowing smile. As Ithil was about to thank her, the girl turned and ran towards an elderly man that sat upon one of the benches in the courtyard.

Ithil turned to him with a smile so infectious that Solas found that he too returned the expression. “So…,” she began and looked at him from underneath her lashes, “I’m vhenan again.”

“You were always my heart,” he replied.

“Really? Because I seem to recall being called Inquisitor after what happened between us on a certain day,” she teased, her smile mocking him.

He chuckled quietly, “Fair enough.”

Ithil leaned on him, the petals and her wispy hair tickling his neck as she settled and made herself comfortable in that position. “I wish…” she whispered as she took his hand and weaved her fingers with his, “that the waking world would accept us easily.”

He tightened his grip on hers, trying to comfort her somehow, “Reality is not so kind, you and I know both know that.”

“Yes,” she whispered, a soft melancholy in the tone of her voice.

“But, we will both face it… together.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those who were curious, here are some of the flower meanings that I used as symbols for the story.
> 
> Moonflower -Seems to glow just like a full moon, holds the meaning of the mysteries of the intuition and the mystical movement of the stars and moon, a symbol of delicate femininity; I only dream of love
> 
> Redwood Tree -symbol of forever; a great teacher; whispers of ancient wisdom
> 
> Crocus - Meanings tend to differ but generally this flower is associated with youthfulness, gladness and foresight.
> 
> Forget-me-not - In the language of flowers it means remember me forever, memories and True Love


End file.
